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#[ that last comment isn’t a knock I’m just saying if it’s seen there it’s not just there ]
atlabeth · 5 months
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pretty boy
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.
a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic
wc: 1.8k
warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff
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You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it. 
You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.  
“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments. 
You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.” 
He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?” 
She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.” 
“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.” 
“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh. 
“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.” 
You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him. 
“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?” 
“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.” 
“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.” 
“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says. 
You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?” 
“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.” 
“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something. 
“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.” 
You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep. 
“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks. 
“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.” 
“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity. 
“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”
“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses. 
“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.” 
You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him. 
Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—
“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly. 
“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.” 
You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?” 
“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”
You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus. 
You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel. 
You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent. 
And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses. 
He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.  
“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?” 
Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?” 
“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.” 
“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.” 
You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this. 
“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.” 
“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.” 
“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks. 
“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?” 
“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves. 
“That’s ridiculous.” 
You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.” 
“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.” 
“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”
“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.” 
“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.” 
“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.” 
“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.” 
“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.” 
You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.” 
You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?” 
“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.” 
“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today. 
“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?” 
Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.” 
“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.” 
“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?” 
“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” 
And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here. 
You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.” 
He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here. 
“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head. 
“You don’t need to pay me back.” 
“Really?” 
Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.” 
“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.” 
He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning. 
“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says. 
“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!” 
“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.” 
You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.” 
“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.” 
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rxzennia · 5 months
Text
hibernation/ brumation
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 winter dormancy.
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in his five years of being your boss, aventurine hasn’t ever seen you send in a request for leave. but here he is, staring at your application for a month-long vacation.
a month? isn’t that a little too long?
you didn’t even stick a little comment about where you’re going or what’s happening, dammit! he wants to know so bad, but he feels like he’ll either overstep his boundaries or come off as clingy if he asks.
he’ll approve it, of course!
he wants you to not hate your job, and part of being a good boss is letting his subordinates take the leaves they’re entitled to
and you deserve a nice, long break, anyway
but the curiosity is killing him inside. what will you be doing? will you still hang around the IPC?
he really, really wants to barge into your office and wrench an explanation out of you
and also, how dare you try to take leave right into the holidays! rude
he wanted to take you out to dinner! to fancy places! he was prepared to have a schedule full of you!
totally not dates or his attempts to spoil you
he totally isn’t thinking of doing it so that you’ll spoil him in return
he’s found out that you respond to him if he rants at you
and that you get very soft and careful with him if he presses the right buttons
he digs that so much it’s unreal
there’s something about having you, of all people, treat him tenderly
perhaps because he’s seen firsthand what kind of monster hides in your scarf
or… what kind of monster hides beneath your silent, icy exterior
it just hits different when someone like you treat him so gently
and he knows for a fact that you’ll never abuse that power you have
he absolutely loves that. 100%.
“guess who’s here!” aventurine announces as he enters your office without so much as a knock, “hard at work, my favorite secretary?”
“out, please.” you hiss, sparing him barely a glance from your computer, “i’m concentrating.”
since when did your complaints stop him
he saunters over and sits himself on your armrest anyway
your scarf lift him up and set him down on the couch opposite to you
he finds his way back to your chair
you put him on the couch again
he comes back to your armrest
is he a cat obsessed with a particular box (namely, your chair) or something
you give up
“what is it?” you relent, scooting over so he can fit onto your seat, too, albeit barely
this man does not hesitate to invade your personal space
“where are you going for a month, hmm?” he asks with a playful smile, “can’t even tell me?”
oh, so that’s what this is about
but why is he resting his face in his hand and looking at you like he’s trying to flirt?
“hibernation.” you keep typing without giving aventurine much of a reaction, “not exactly, but close. brumation.”
wait. wait, what?
it doesn’t take a genius to know that aventurine is currently flabbergasted. “you… hibernate? like sleep hibernate?” 
“no, i hibernate awake.” you mumble sarcastically, but he catches it even if your words are muffled
“c’mon, i’m just checking!” he throws his hands in the air as if protesting your attitude
“yes, i sleep, for the most part.” you scoot over a little more and lift him up, setting him down in your lap. “but i’ll be awake here and there.”
you rest your head on top of his and continues to work, effectively caging him in
he realizes you’re much more like a snake than he thought
not in an alarming way
you’re coiling around him, but, like, in a friendly danger noodle way
“will you?” he chuckles; maybe his plans aren’t entirely foiled, after all, “for how long?”
you look at him. “a few minutes up to an hour?” 
you’re only getting up for water and/or changing sleeping positions
never mind, his plans to try to spoil you is, in fact, foiled
he pouts. he had the entire thing planned out already! all five days that you’ll be off!
he looks like a kid who’s about to buy the last donut but you beat him to it and buy the donut right in front of his eyes.
“you can visit.” you say, and you see him light up almost immediately. 
though, you don't think there’s much worth visiting, but whatever makes him happy
when aventurine visits you during your well-deserved vacation, he’s pleasantly surprised. you’re sleeping so peacefully, despite the fact that you usually rarely sleep at all.
you’re curled up into half a ball under your blankets and your scarf
and letting out little snores
is this what you look like when you’re asleep? 
so adorable. if only you’d let him see it often…
but he doesn’t know the frequency of your brumation period
as far as he knows, it’s once in five years, but he has no idea if it’s more than five years
you’re not covering your face, either
aeons, he loves seeing your unobscured face
you’re so beautiful under your scarf
especially the patches of scales along your neck, they glitter in white gold under the light
he wishes you wouldn't try to cover them up
during your entire month, he’s going to be in your room whenever he’s free
he will totally try to sleep next to you at night
what? it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before!
it’s just that you’ve never been asleep by each other's side!
you will cuddle into him if he tries to hold you
and you will get fussy if he tries to get out of the hug
if only you were as honest when you’re awake
aventurine has been trying to catch you in your small conscious windows, but he’s having not much luck with that. though, this isn’t exactly a gamble, so “luck” might not be the right word here.
he’s so busy; he’s drowning in work 
your temporary replacement isn’t very good at their job
or maybe he’s just used to the way you do things and now everything feels wrong
he wants you back already 
because nowadays he barely has an hour to spend with you apart from bedtime
he hates it
what do you mean by he can’t sit next to your sleeping form while he signs papers?
horrible, very horrible
but eventually he does catch you when you’re awake
you’re drowsy and you’re dragging your blankets and your scarf with you around your room
the cutest thing he’s ever seen in a long while
he watches as you clumsily pour yourself some water, spilling some on the table because you can’t line up the jug and the glass properly
and he watches as you sluggishly flop onto your couch after you’ve downed the water
“had enough of the bed?” he asks, sitting down next to you and brushing a few strands of hair away from your face
“hnnnnnngh,” you grumble and turn to face away from him, you just want to go back to sleep
then you remember this is your boss’s voice
and you reluctantly mumble, “it’s too warm…”
do you even know what you’re saying? you’re melting his heart
“oh, that so? it’s too hot over there?” aventurine snickers softly, his hand caressing your face, the cool fabric of his glove making you sigh in delight. “you’re so lovely.”
he recognizes the amount of trust you have in him to let him visit you when you’re sleeping, and it’s doing things to his stomach. you’re so lazy, so barely aware of your surroundings, but you trust him to be around you while you are in this state.
there is an urge, and he acts on it. he nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing your noses together and planting a small kiss on your forehead. he’s been dreaming of holding you like you’re his greatest treasure, but he’s never mustered up the courage to do it. 
maybe someday he will tell you, and then he’ll be allowed to adore you openly the way he’s always wanted to.
“my favorite snake,” he whispers to himself, feeling a shudder of affection throughout his bones, “sleep well. i’ll look forward to taking you out when you rise.”
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vendrea · 1 month
Text
Who Would’ve Thought I’d Get You?
something short n’ sweet
ෆ ෆ ෆ
pairing: nika mühl x fem!reader
wc: 500
fluff & angst | reassurance
ෆ ෆ ෆ
Three knocks.
Nika made her way to the door of her apartment, revealing you in an incredibly distressed state. Tears running down your flushed face and your lips quivering, the brunette was looking at you in sympathetic awe.
“Baby? What’s wrong?”
You took a step forward as Nika closed the door behind you, falling into her chest.
“Me and my dad got into a huge argument,” You said in between your hyperventilating. She rubbed your back in efforts to calm you down,
“What’d you fight about? C’mere let’s sit on the couch.” She says softly as she guided you to the living area, her large hands on the small of your back.
“He’s moving across the fucking country to Arizona. Next week.” You say blantly as you plopped down on the couch, your head in your hands.
“What the hell? Are you serious? Why’s he moving all of a sudden?” Nika questioned, starting to match your hysteria.
“Apparently he’s been in the works of a new job two months and he just bought a house there. Not only is it fucking crazy how he’s now telling me, but he’s taking Helena too!” Tears pricking as you voice the reminder.
Helena being your younger sister, there’s no way you could live being kept away from her in such long periods of time. Storrs to Phoenix was a 6 hour flight away!
“Dude that’s such bullshit. That isn’t fair to you and your sister at all. I’m sorry baby, you guys don’t deserve that.” She strains, her heart aching for you as she saw you become more visibly upset. She removed your hands from your face and brought them to her lips, planting reassuring kisses.
You looked at the ‘Baby M’ tattoo she had on the side of her hand and remembered how the Croatian has been in your shoes before. “How’d you do it Niks? You came here all the way from Croatia, without seeing your family for years.” You ask her, hoping her words would ease your discomfort in some way.
“Well, I did come to practice crying everyday at first. It was hard, really hard” She says, letting out a faint laugh making you softly smile at the idea of your girlfriend’s tough facade falling.
“—But, it got easier eventually. Good thing the technology exists y’know, I still got to FaceTime them and all that stuff. I just had to remind myself the future I’m building for myself here is also for my family back in Zagreb. And I also got to meet you.”
You listened to her intently, playing with her fingers to aide your anxiety. Your ears perked up at her last comment, leaving you cheesed.
“That’s a smile I like to see.” Nika complimented
“What would I do without you? I’m so glad I met you.” You felt so in love with the girl beside you, she made you feel so seen.
“I love you.” she spoke with a kiss placed on your forehead
“I love you more.”
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Text
You Are Not Him
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~800
Warnings: talk of abusive father (nothing explicit), angst
Request by @ashleighhelner: maybe reader has had a bad childhood relationship with their father and is struggling with the fact that they look like their father (strong genes or dna or something) and reid helps them through it a bit? or advice?
Summary: Your father has been released from prison and has reached out to you. No one on the team knows what he did to you and your mom, and Spencer is there for you no matter what.
Square Filled: "it's not an addiction. it's a coping mechanism." for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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“Coffee order? I’m making a run,” Spencer offers his best friend.
“Yeah, get me a hazelnut latte, triple shot.”
“Half-caf extra shot venti with two pumps of non-fat creamer and hold the whip caramel macchiato,” Penelope says after Derek.
“You got it.” Spencer moves to the bullpen where JJ and Emilg are gossiping. “Coffee run. Anything?”
“White with one splenda,” Emily says.
“Same but with no sugar.”
Spencer nods twice and leaves the two girls to go to Hotch’s office where Hotch and Rossi are. He knocks twice and opens it after he is given permission.
“Coffee run. Do you want anything?”
“Black is fine,” Hotch says.
“Espresso with two sugars. Thank you,” Rossi smiles.
“You’re welcome. Have you guys seen Y/N?”
“Last I saw she was headed to the file room.”
“Thanks.” Spencer heads in the direction where the file room is, passing by a couple of empty offices. He halts when he hears someone crying in one of the offices. He checks to make sure he is alone before knowing once. He opens the door to see you quickly wipe the tears from your face. “Are you okay?”
“What did you need?” you sniffle.
“I’m going on a coffee run. I got everyone’s orders but yours. Have you been crying?”
You quickly give him your order. “Thank you.”
“Y/N—”
“Spencer, I’m fine. I appreciate you getting us coffee. I just want to be alone right now. You understand, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll come find you when I get back,” he says reluctantly.
“Okay,” you whisper.
Spencer is a lot of things and persistent is one of them. You’ll have to have a better excuse for when he comes back because you know this isn’t going to be the first time he asks about this.
When Spencer returns, he finds you with a heap of files in your hands. You couldn’t think of a good excuse as to why you were crying so you decided to be so busy he can’t ask you about it. Spencer has given everyone else their orders so you’re the last one.
“Hey, Spence, you can drop it off at my desk. Thank you.”
“Wait, Y/N--”
“I can’t talk right now, Spencer. I have work to do.”
Spencer watches you leave with a sigh. You keep yourself busy all day just so you don’t have to talk to him, and you’re one of the first ones to leave at the end of the day when you’re usually one of the last. Spencer can’t take this anymore so he immediately heads over to your place since he’s the only one who has a key.
He tries knocking to be polite but you don’t get the door. He can hear you crying inside so he uses the key and walks in. You’re sitting on the couch with a bottle of alcohol in your hands. You shouldn’t have gotten into the hard liquor but after the day you’ve had, it’s understandable. You baely register that he’s here due to how much you’re crying.
“Be careful with that. You don’t want to end up addicted,” he says and sets his coat down on the chair.
“It’s not an addiction. It’s a coping mechanism,” you scoff and take another swig.
“What’s wrong? Don’t say nothing because it’s obviously something. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so upset.”
The waterworks come again, and you look at your best friend who sits next to you on the couch.
“I got a message from my dad this morning. That piece of shit. He asked me if he could see me. God, he was such a shitty dad. He was angry all the time, he hit me and my mom, and it’s how I got these.” You show him the small circular scars on your arms that was caused by his cigarettes. “He was in jail but got out and asked to see me as if he didn’t make my life a living hell.”
“On top of all that, I’m really struggling with my self image because I look just like him,” you cry. “Sometimes I hate what I see in the mirror. I hate that I see his face. I fucking hate him.”
Spencer takes the alcohol bottle from your hands gently and sets it on the table. He moves closer to you and pulls you into him to give you physical comfort.
“You are not your father. You are so good and you’re the light where he is the darkness.” You look up at him and he wipes your tears away. “What he did to you was terrible but you are not him.”
“How do you know?” you whisper.
“Because you’re worried about turning into him. The fact that you recognize that is the beginning of why you’re not him. You don’t have to see him but if you do, I will go with you. You’re not alone.”
You snuggle closer to Spencer and place your head on his chest.
“Will you stay with me?”
“Of course.”
Spencer kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable on the couch with you practically on top of him. He rubs your back gently and waits until you fall asleep, allowing him to fall asleep right after you.
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impishjesters · 11 months
Note
Can you do Jax x reader who has a lot of insecurities about how they look and act in the real world and the digital one? And if not you can just ignore this 💕
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Insecurities
warning(s): Jax (only slightly kidding), insecurities, mentioned dark humor to cope, minor bullying (Jax throws Zooble and Dangle under the bus on their appearance) note(s): I'm quickly learning that just like Jax, I'd probably be an awful human being to seek comfort in.. at least words of comfort... A/N: Realized more than halfway through writing that I wasn't sure if the request was separate hc's like knowing him before being yoinked into the digital hellscape and after or not... Feel free to toss another ask though and I can try some pre-digital hellscape hc's...however, I feel like they'd still be pretty similar to the post-digital hellscape reactions.
Jax is probably the last person to talk to when it comes to insecurities, real or digital
One time the topic of what everyone looked like before being sucked into the digital hellscape came up, but not everyone remembered, whether it was because they simply couldn’t remember or because they’d been there too long to remember
Jax’s response is never consistent. In one comment he’ll say he misses having long hair and was 5’4”, and the next comment is how he was actually bald and 5’10”
Now whether that’s him fuckin around or not is anybody’s guess
Currently, he’s got no real beef with his appearance, and he’s unapologetically himself digital or human. Now when it comes to you?
It can go a few different ways depending on how close the two of you are
Right out the gate, he’ll claim whatever toy-like appearance you’ve taken on can’t be any uglier than Zooble, which is like wow, harsh—they aren’t exactly easy on the eyes but that’s still a person with feelings…
He might even throw in a harsh comment about Gangle’s lack of a body, being ya know just ribbons… but hey! At least you have a body compared to her (Jax..that’s not helping..)
See what I said? Not the best person to go to with this sorta stuff
In the beginning, there’s always the gamble he might poke fun at your digital appearance and not really realize till later on that you were insecure about your appearance. (Whether it’s because someone else pointed it out or you flat-out told him.)
The closer the two of you get—friendship or romantic—he’s still an ass but once you’ve confronted him about your feelings and insecurities about your appearance, digital or human he knocks it off.
Nobody’s really voiced their complaints on what they ended up as here, at least not publically…
He’ll try to reassure you that you look fine, likely not understanding how deeply rooted something like insecurities can go and something like a “well I don’t think you’re ugly” isn’t gonna cut it.
Jax isn’t a sweet talker, or rather he doesn’t really sound all that genuine if he does, but he does try to put some emphasis that you really do look fine. (again, sweet but likely not helpful)
Now real world you? He wouldn’t know in the slightest, and while he could lie and say that the description you gave him wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, he’s not gonna do that to you (not that the appearance you gave him sounded ugly or anything).
Jax copes with dark humor and will without a doubt throw out some comment about how you won’t have to be insecure about your human appearance anymore because it’s unlikely any of you are getting out of here. (I’m sorry I’m laughing so hard because that would 15/10 make me laugh, dark humor is how I cope)
It’s not helpful (depending on the individual at least)
Oh! What about now you don’t have to worry about any acne or wrinkles?
Better? But is it really? Eh..
Overall he’s not particularly great at the whole reassurance about your appearance or how you act “I mean have you seen how some of the others act?” (Jax that’s not..helpful), but because you are someone important to him he’ll make the extra effort to listen to exactly what it is your insecure about and if you need him to reassure you he’ll do so
It might sound insincere but that’s just how he talks
On the off chance that you have a really bad day, it tugs at his heartstrings (yeah, he has those), he’ll pull you aside and give you little kisses over those places.
Insecure about something facial-wise? Face kisses.
You end up as a toy with too many legs and not enough fingers? Kisses (maybe not the legs though...)
When in doubt kisses and he’ll let you hug him or whatever, but breathe a word of this to the other’s and he’ll.. I dunno, prank you later or something. He'll have to workshop it.
Back to the act thing, I don’t personally know how someone would be insecure over that—but if you stim or anything of the sort Jax won’t really comment on it, but if someone else does? Poor them because they are about to get on the bunny’s bad side.
Gangle stims and as big of an asshole as Jax is, he’s never made fun of her for it.
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its-time-to-write · 2 months
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I wrote this in light of the Euros last night. If you don’t know, England lost to Spain and it was absolutely brutal. So for context, this fic takes place post-match in Berlin. (I also knocked this out in forty minutes to distract myself from the fact that I have to rewrite the mafs fic from scratch😭😭)
enjoy.
twentysomethings
The creak in the hotel hall is the only warning you get before there’s a knock on the door. 
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s on the other side, so it’s no surprise when you open the door to reveal Jamie Tartt.
“It’s late,” you comment when you see him. You tilt your head. “You alright?”
Jamie doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. You move aside to let him in and shut the door.
You move to sit on the bed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Shit, sorry,” you say. “Didn’t want to change into pajamas when I got home.”
You pull the England kit over your head, leaving your undershirt on. You do your best to conceal the name on the back and toss it on the floor beside the bed.
You’ve known Jamie for years. He was friends with your cousins growing up, so you’d seen him on and off since childhood. You’d ended up dating for a few months, and your parents had been surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.
“He’s been in love with you for ages,” your mum had said.
You had laughed. 
Jamie had done a spectacular job working past your defenses. “I won’t leave you,” he promised. “I love you.”
And you believed him.
You’d sworn off dating after a particularly bad heartbreak, but Jamie was determined.
And who are you kidding, you loved him too. You would have done anything he asked. 
You did. You moved to be with him, figured out how to make your job work remotely, sacrificed just so you could be with him. But he was worth it.
The breakup was a shock, to say the least.
He never could give you a straight answer as to why, and before you knew it you were on a flight back home. 
The rumors started a few days later which was silly, because no one even knew you and Jamie were dating. Or that you knew each other. Or anything.
No, the rumors had nothing to do with you; they just linked his name to a gorgeous blonde model, saying he’d been seeing her for weeks.
That hurt worse than anything else. The evidence was mixed, not terribly reliable, but there was enough of it for you to consider it may contain truth.
He didn’t text, didn’t call. Didn’t try to convince you it was a lie, so you believed it.
Why else would you have ended?
You thought you knew him, thought he wouldn’t cheat. Breaking up and moving on is one thing, but sleeping with someone else while you were together… it was earth-shattering. 
Especially because he knew.
He knew how hard it was for you to trust. He knew what he was doing when he held your hand and kissed your temple.
You did know him, though. He hadn’t been cheating on you, it was just the stupid rumor mill, but you were still broken up so it didn’t fix anything. You still had no explanation.
All this time, and you can tell exactly what he’s thinking. You know exactly why he’s in your room so when you pat the spot on the mattress next to you, he doesn’t have to say anything before he’s on top of you.
He’s pent up, all anger and sadness, but he presses soft kisses along your neck and jaw in a stark contrast.
“We should shower,” Jamie says when you’re done. It’s the first thing he’s said that isn’t your name or false promises that he loves you.
“I’m tired,” you say. It’s true; your head’s spinning and if you close your eyes for longer than a minute, you’ll fall asleep.
Jamie makes a face, not quite a grin but certainly not the frown that’s been affixed to his face and says, “You run the shower and I’ll change the sheets, yeah?”
You groan and roll out of bed as Jamie rummages through the closet for extra sheets.
“You weren’t with mum and Simon,” he says in the shower later.
“No,” you say, swiping your thumb under his eye.
He’s silent, waiting for you to say more, but you don’t. You’d been in the stands with the general public, as you’d always preferred. Less likely to be noticed that way. 
He says, “You were wearing an England kit.”
You shrug. “Not a real one. Didn’t want to spend £89 on something I’d wear once. Not like anyone can tell.”
“Hm,” he says, turning off the water.
You shiver. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Fuck no,” he says, wrapping first himself and then you in a towel. He looks at you questioningly and you half-nod, resigned to the fact that you’re going to let tonight run its course. 
Jamie picks you up, bridal style, and kisses you as he carries you back to the bed.
“We’re going to have to shower again,” you warn.
“No, you’re going to have to shower again,” he corrects as he kisses your hipbone.
You yawn, and he props himself up to look at you. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?” he teases.
You smile, “You’re the one who came to find me, my love.”
The words roll so easily off your tongue that you won’t realize exactly what you said until later. If Jamie catches it, he doesn’t say anything.
An alarm goes off early in the morning. It’s not yours, you’d set yours for 10:00am. Jamie reaches to turn it off then pulls you close. 
“Gonna sneak back?” you yawn. He buries his face in your neck in response.
“Jamie,” you sigh. “You have to go back.”
He still doesn’t say anything so you wiggle to get face-to-face with him. He’s centimeters away, and you indulge in a moment to study his face. This is the last time you’ll have him in your bed, so you’re allowed to enjoy it.
You ask, “You did well, you know that, right?” but he shrugs and tries to turn his face away.
“Jamie,” you say again, “you did well. I’m so proud of you. You played in the Euros for god’s sake. You were in the starting eleven for the finals! That’s amazing. You made it so far.”
“Not fucking far enough,” he mumbles, and you kick him.
“Don’t be an asshole to yourself. Enough people will do that for you.”
He shrugs again. “You coming back to England?” he asks in an effort to change the subject, and you let him.
Not that this topic will be much easier than England’s loss to Spain.
You shake your head. “Going to Ireland to see the family.”
“Then England?” he asks, but it’s with a false kind of hope. He already knows what’s coming.
“Jamie.” You taste the way his name sounds on your tongue for one of the last times. “I can’t keep doing this to myself. I’d go anywhere you asked, do anything for you. I’d let you hurt me over and over again, but- it’s just not healthy. You know I love you and I know you love me. But we love other things more. You’ll always choose football over me, and I’ll always choose my job over you. You broke up with me, if you recall, and you never fucking told me why.”
He whispers, “Will you forgive me?” and the way he toys with your hair makes you realize he already knows your answer.
“I was only mad at you that Monday,” you say. “I shouldn’t have called and I shouldn’t have yelled, but that was the only day I’ve ever been mad at you. I’ve already forgiven you.”
There isn’t much more to say after that. Instead of trying to fill the silence Jamie pulls you closer under the covers. You lay there for far too short a time before you say, “We need to get up.”
Unwillingly, Jamie lets you go. He’s still in bed watching you as you begin to change.
“That’s got to be a crime,” he groans as you clasp your bra. 
“Fuck off,” you grin. “You’ll see some again.”
You don’t say, you’ll see mine again, because he won’t. He wipes sleep from his eyes and sits up.
“I don’t want to leave,” he confesses, and you understand.
“This isn’t real life,” you tell him. “Besides, now you get a holiday. It’s going to be okay.”
Jamie sits for a moment longer, then gets up to put on last night’s clothes.
“Mum gave me your room number,” he says when he’s all dressed.
“I figured,” you respond. “She’s the one that invited me.”
Jamie nods. She’d told him the whole thing after the match and he’s glad he hadn’t known you were in the stands.
You say, “Well.”
Jamie says, “Well.”
He crosses the room to pull you into what is arguably the best kiss of your entire life.
“I love you,” he says between kisses. You push him gently toward the door, but he’s still kissing you.
“I love you,” he says again.
“Jamie,” you reply, but you mean the same thing.
He kisses once, twice, three times in the doorway before taking a last long look at your face.
He’s crying again, and it’s worse seeing it in person than it was seeing it at the match.
Something wet slides down your cheeks, and you realize you’re crying too.
“You have to let me go,” you choke out. “I’m so sorry. You have to.”
He nods, gripping your hand.
Jamie presses his forehead to yours one last time. “I love you,” he whispers.
You breathe, I love you too, then he’s gone.
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devildomwriter · 1 month
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Obey Me As Tumblr #30
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Luke: Capitalizing every word in a sentence is vomit-inducing
Satan: Enjoy Your Trip To Puke Land, Boy!
Solomon: This is a strong contender for my favorite exchange I’ve ever seen on the internet
Leviathan: Despite how horrifying horse are they don’t have the requisite dexterity to play league of legends and therefor they will never be as disgusting as us
Thirteen: Horses don’t need limbs to play video games their brains are wired right into the mainfr
Mammon: They fucking killed her
Thirteen: *in a horse accent* no I’m fine!
Leviathan: What the fuck is a horse accent?
Solomon: Oh you know
Leviathan: What are YOUR resolutions for the new year?
Mammon: 1080p
Leviathan: Back to Hell with you
Asmodeus: Feeling highly lustful on this night and a little bit gluttonous
MC: Sluttonous
Asmodeus: You have my vote
Diavolo: Why don’t more Pokémon have blood based attacks?
Leviathan: …Where would the blood come from?
Diavolo: The Trainers
Satan: I really really wish I was a cat, I’m not built for this capitalist society but I am built for sleeping 19 hours a day and knocking things over.
Raphael: My Etsy page consists of (1) cursed doll found in the forest and nothing more
Mephistopheles: Do you know what curse it is?
Raphael: Curse that makes you sell it on Etsy
Mephistopheles: Oh sweet find I’ll go check it out
Mephistopheles: My Etsy page consists of (1) cursed doll found in the forest and nothing more
Satan: Friendly reminder use your turn signal
MC: Hey I’m from Tennessee I don’t understand this post?
Satan: Show this post to the horse you ride around on he’ll take it from there
Diavolo: Sometimes people don’t do anything TECHNICALLY wrong but still should get smacked for lacking empathy, or being Logan Paul
Belphegor: Does Jake Paul count in the smacking? Or only Logan?
Diavolo: There’s TWO?
MC: Feeling slothful today my friend
Belphegor: Then snooze
MC: Worry not, I am also gluttonous, and highly wrathful
Lucifer: Are you trying to hit all 7 before dinner?
MC: UH OH HERE COMES LUST
Asmodeus: How do you think of the funny things you say?
MC: I kidnap the writing cast for Big Bang theory and whip them in a cage until their screams resemble a sentence
Simeon: Big Bang theory isn’t funny (:
MC: Their screams are
Mammon: Flip phones are still dope and I’m waiting on them to resurge
Thirteen: Like we need more proof that you aren’t a drug dealer
Mammon: I’m a slut for mid2000s technology, not a slut for meth
Solomon: I’m a slut for both
Mammon: I don’t like this post so much anymore
Solomon: New year new me *casts a spell that morphs me into a horrible creature*
Asmodeus: *milks you*
Solomon: This is the worst comment I’ve ever got on any post
Luke: Ahhh where do ravens go when the sun goes down !!! ?
Simeon: Why do you think the sky is black at night?
Luke: :O
Diavolo: Banishment is the funniest punishment I can think of. Just get out of here.
Leviathan: If dumbasses can find love, so can this dumbass
Mammon: High Key this is actually really inspiring
Leviathan: PLEASE stop relating
Last • Next
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sunnys-out · 10 months
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One for the road | Alex Morgan x Reader
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Part 2 of Your damn cherry chapstick
A/N: Again we are going to, again, pretend that voicemails can be this long lol. Tech at work stopped working so was able to write this.
Warnings: Internalized homophobia, slight nsfw, not a happy ending
WC: 684
*Ring*
“Hey sorry I missed your call, just leave me a message and I’ll get back to you when I can! Bye!”
“Hey (y/n), this isn’t technically a text…but you will probably not even listen to this. So, I guess I’ll just say what I need to say for my own sake.”
Pause
“I remember the first time that I had met you…you were way too excited that morning practice…I was not. laughs Then we got paired up for drills and I could barely keep up with you…I don’t think you even broke a sweat”
Pause
“You were one of the few that had class after practice while the rest of us headed back to Clark Kerr to shower and sleep a bit longer. I made an off-hand comment as we were going our separate ways. I had seen a vendor near our dorm on the weekend selling strawberries and wondered when they would be back so I could buy myself some”
Pause
“I didn’t think about it until that evening…you knocked on my door with a small,green basket filled with strawberries. Honestly, I didn’t expect it especially from you...I mean we had just met. You just took one from the basket and took a bite, ‘just one for road as payment’ you said to me with a wink as you walked away to your room down the hall”
Pause
“I think that is when I started to fall in love with you…yeah I loved you…I probably still do…no, I still do. Sigh You became my best friend and I don’t ever think I can be as close to someone as I was with you. When we had our first kiss in the hallway of the frat house celebrating our win against Stanford…I swear I didn’t taste the tequila that you drank earlier but the strawberry you had the day we met.”
Pause
“I fell harder for you every day but I got scared…when you introduced me to Servando…I saw an easier future. You were everything I dreamed of but my career was just starting…I was becoming a poster child and the world is better but- I- sacrificed everything I had with you to have everything I have now. I hurt you I know…it hurts me knowing that. The Gala, I left you the moment I saw the recruiters, my fear came back again and I attached myself to Servando. You would be ok without me was my thought; you didn’t need me…Portland was smart to take you when they got created”
Pause
“(Y/N), I didn’t realize how much what I did affected you until you got injured for the first time in Portland. The eyes you shot at me when I approached you in the physio room to check on you. The force that you used to pushed me away, ‘Don’t fucking touch me’ keeps playing in my head when I remember that day. I really lost my best friend”
Pause
“You said that you remember the way I-...I remember those times too…I haven’t forgotten that. You were more than that to me. That last time…it was a goodbye but I just wanted to be close to you again to just be around you. I wanted to be near you when you had your career ending injury with Portland. That’s not what I did. I kept my distance when I saw you go down and from then on I kept myself from you.” 
Pause
“I did listen to your voicemail if it isn’t obvious…I’m sorry…You’re right when you say that I would think to run back to you if you showed up at the wedding…but it would only be a thought. I’m still that scared university student, fearful for her future but so in love with her best friend. You don’t deserve what I am doing to you, so this will be my last message to you ok? I love you and even if I won’t be in your life anymore…I will always be rooting for you…maybe in the next life we-... never mind. Goodbye, (y/n)”
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austinshotbutlers · 2 years
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The Wedding Date - Part Two
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!Reader
Summary: Your sister’s wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to you family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is… you don’t have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?
Word count: 4.1k
TW: Mentions and allusions to sex, swear words and bad writing?
A/N: Part two is here!!! I’ve tagged everyone who commented on part one but let me know if you want to be removed. The love i have received for part one has meant so much, I didn’t think it would blow up as much as it did. Thank you so much to every single one of you! There will be a part three! Part one can be found here
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“Maybe we should hold hands?” You suggested as your smoothed down the red, silky dress you had picked for the party as you made your way into the extremely expensive looking lounge bar. You adjusted your hair slightly to ensure it looked perfect and once again smoothed the surface of your dress.
“Stop fidgeting, you look beautiful.” Aaron smiled and he took your hand in his.
You walked through the large doors into a gorgeous, old fashioned style bar. Family and friends were mingling all around nursing all kinds of alcoholic beverages. A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed and you quickly grabbed two, handing one to Aaron. You knocked it back in one, ready to face the challenges of the evening.
“You might want to slow down just a little bit.” Aaron laughed as he took a small sip from his own flute.
You were about to respond but the shrill sound of your sister cut you off.
“EEEEK!” She squealed as she ran over. “My sister is here! Who’s the hunk?” She attempted to whisper so Aaron couldn’t hear but failed miserably. “I’m getting married! I’m getting married!” And before you could respond, your slightly intoxicated sister ran off to hound someone else.
“She is going to be so drunk by the end of the night.” You say to Aaron, rolling your eyes jokingly.
“I’m just going to step outside and give Jack a call. Is that ok?” Aaron asks, pulling his phone out his suit pocket.
“Oh god yes! Go call him!” You ushered him away to let him phone Jack. This was your chance to go and refresh yourself and you made your way to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, tucking some loose hair back behind your ear before retouching your lipstick. You smiled to yourself as you remembered Hotch saying you looked beautiful, heat rose to your cheeks and you fanned your face to calm down. Once you had collected your thoughts and you had finished touching up your makeup, you headed straight out the restroom door and walked smack into someone.
“God I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was…” you looked up and immediately recognised the cold steely eyes that were staring back at you. “Luke….” You laughed nervously. “Hi.”
He loosened his tie slightly before he spoke. “Er… Y/N, hi.”
You both stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds as you took in his appearance. He had aged quite a bit since you had last seen him; the start of a receding hairline, a messy, unkempt beard and still wearing ill fitting suits. You took a mental note of how much better Aaron wore a suit.
“Where’s this boyfriend I’ve been hearing about?” He asked abruptly.
You were quite taken aback. “He’s somewhere in the bar. He wasn’t going to escort me to the bathroom.” You replied bluntly.
He was just about to say something else when the uncanny voice of your cousin filled the small hallway.
“Oh my god!! If it isn’t my favourite cousin ever!” She yelled, running over and embracing you tightly. “Seriously, nearly two years since I last saw you. I have ex-boyfriends I see more than you.”
You laughed as you pulled back from the hug. “Oh Livvy I’ve missed you.”
She smiled at you before turning to face Luke. “Hello asshole.” She says in a moody tone. “Hope it’s alright if I just steal my cousin away.” And before Luke could utter a single word, Liv was dragging you up the stairs back to the party.
“Thank god you came when you did. I think he was about to play 21 questions with me about my new boyfriend.” You huffed.
“I will always rescue you from that asshole.” Liv replied and picked up a glass of champagne. “Now here,” she passed it to you. “Drink! God knows you’re going to need it.”
You sipped at the drink and scanned the room to see if Aaron had joined the party again. Just then, you saw him on the arm of your mother as she introduced him to all of your aunts. She had clearly cornered him when he came back to the party and insisted on introducing him to all the family. You smiled as he said something which made the group laugh, all your aunts seeming to take an instant liking to him.
“Ok, spill! Who is the sexy boyfriend of yours then? How did you meet?” Liv asked as she watched Aaron as well.
“We work together at the BAU. He’s the Unit Chief.” You replied without a second thought.
“Dating the boss? Sounds like something I would do.” She laughed.
You shook your head with a laugh and then looked up to see that Aaron had managed to escape your mother’s death grip and was making his way over to you. When he reached you, he placed his hand on your hip and ducked down to place a kiss on your cheek.
“How was Jack?” You asked breathlessly, the tingle of Aaron’s lips still lingering on your cheek.
“Yeah he’s good. Tired from a long day playing soccer.” Aaron replied with a smile.
Your cousin coughed to remind you of her presence.
“Liv!” You burst out, moving to the side so Aaron could see her properly. “Aaron, this is my cousin Liv.” You introduced them. Aaron put his hand out and Liv shook it enthusiastically.
“Nice to meet you Aaron. I’m so glad Y/N finally got over that pathetic loser and decided to get herself a real man.”
“Liv!” You hissed at her as she embarrassed you but Aaron just smiled and moved so he could wrap his arm around your waist. “Let’s go get another drink.” You say to him and you both wondered over to the bar.
“What would you like?” Aaron asked as he caught the attention of the bartender.
“Anything that’s stronger than champagne.” You groaned.
“Two scotches please.” Aaron asked the bartender and he speedily poured out two tumblers of amber liquid.
“Thanks.” You murmured just loud enough for Aaron to hear. He placed his arm back around your waist, taking a sip of his scotch.
You started to giggle to yourself and Aaron looked at you quizzically. “What’s so funny?”
“Well it’s just…” you laughed a bit harder. “Hotch drinking scotch.”
Aaron rolled his eyes, trying his best to suppress the smile that was slowly forming on his face. “It’s not even funny Y/N.”
“Say that to the smile on your face.” You laughed harder and Aaron gave in, laughing with you. “I think the alcohol is finally working, I’m going to go and get some fresh air,” and you slowly made your way out to the patio, taking a deep breath in.
***
Aaron smiled as he watched you glide across the floor, heading to the opened doors. If someone had told him a month ago that he would be in LA with you, pretending to be your boyfriend, he would have said they were insane. This was so out of character for him yet it felt so right being here with you. Everything about you made his heart swell; your smile and laugh, your bad jokes, the way you tuck your hair behind your ears. But tonight, the way you looked in that red dress just took his breath away, you were simply stunning.
He turned back to the bar and asked for another scotch which the bartender handed over.
“I’ll have the same.” Someone said from beside him, he turned to look at the man. He had a long overgrown beard that definitely needed trimming and a rather bad fitting suit on. “Partying alone?” The man asked Aaron.
“No, my girlfriend has just gone to get a breath of fresh air.” He replied. “You?”
“All by myself tonight being painfully taunted by my ex-girlfriend.” Said the man with a sigh, taking a large gulp of his scotch.
‘Surely this isn’t Luke?’ Aaron thought to himself as he attempted to profile his mannerisms and appearance.
“Yeah she seems to be trying to make me jealous. She claims she has a boyfriend but I’m yet to see him with her. She’s desperate to show me what I’m certainly not missing.” He continued and Aaron immediately realised that this was indeed your ex-boyfriend. The bitter tone as he spoke about you so rudely was enough to make Aaron want to use all his FBI combat training but he refrained so not to cause a scene. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Aaron saw you striding effortlessly in your heels across the room to him.
*** You looked over the gorgeous gardens as you stood in the early evening, the sun beginning to set. While your sister may be an insufferable bridezilla, she knew how to pick a beautiful venue. You downed the last drop of your scotch and turned to look back inside at the party. Your sister and her fiancé Thomas were chatting to your dad, your mom was telling some extravagant story to a group of people who were laughing along and Aaron…
You looked for him and saw him where you had left him at the bar and talking to…Luke!
“Oh shit!“ you shouted out loud and received a couple of unimpressed stares from some guests who were admiring the gardens as well. You put the glass in your hand down on the nearest table you could find and hastily strode across the room to get to them. Without taking a single look at Luke, you wrapped your arms around Aaron and kissed him hard on the lips. His initial shock wore off almost instantly as he melted into the kiss, placing his free hand on the small of your back, kissing you back. It felt so perfect, so right and little did you know, Aaron felt the exact same.
You pulled back abruptly and turned to see Luke with a dumbfounded look on his face.
“Luke!” You faked surprise. “I didn’t see you there. Have you two met?” You asked, motioning between him and Aaron.
“Not… not formally.” Luke replied bluntly.
“Oh! Well Luke, this is my boyfriend Aaron.” You smiled, moving so Aaron could offer his usual handshake which Luke shook reluctantly.
“I… er, I should go and find Thomas.” Luke said monotonously and he scampered away before you or Aaron could say anything to him.
As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Aaron. “Oh my god! That wasn’t too much was it?” You asked him frantically and Aaron just laughed.
“No, not at all. It was just a surprise is all.” He smiled sweetly.
“God I’m so sorry! And I’ve got lipstick all on your lips, hang on.” You frantically grabbed a napkin from the bar and started to wipe his lips clean of your red lipstick.
The concentration on your face made Aaron smile and he watched you with such adoration.
“Thank you.” He murmured and you looked too see him smiling at you. Heat rose to your cheeks, the way he looked you made you feel like a pre-teen again. You were about to speak when the sound of a glass being tapped silenced everyone in the bar.
“If I could please have your attention.” The voice of your mother filled the room.
“Jesus. Prepare yourself for the second-hand embarrassment from my mother speaking publicly.” You whispered to Aaron and he chuckled.
“Thank you all for coming to celebrate the engagement of my beautiful daughter Sarah and her fiancé Thomas. We have been waiting for a wedding in this family for a very long time now. We of course thought Y/N would be the first one down the aisle.” The mention of your name immediately caused a lot of looks from around the room focused on you, a couple of murmurs too and you cursed in your head whoever let your mom make a speech while feeling the affects of alcohol. However, the feeling of Aaron snaking his arm around your hips and holding you close made you relax and you tried to ignore your mom’s speech but luckily, your dad interjected and took over.
“To Sarah and Thomas!” He cheered raising a class and everyone followed suit.
“Are you ok?” Aaron whispered quietly into your ear and all you could do was nod.
***
As soon as you walked into your bedroom, you kicked off you heels and threw yourself onto the bed. Aaron walked in a couple of seconds later, loosening his tie and undoing his top button.
“That was simply awful.” You groaned into the pillow.
“It wasn’t that bad.” Aaron said as he sat down next to you on the bed, starting to unlace his shoes.
“Easy for you to say.” You huffed. “When you were talking to Luke, what was he saying?”
Aaron hesitated, debating whether or not to share the whole conversation but he settled on telling the truth. “He said you were trying hard to make him jealous and he didn’t believe you had a boyfriend.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing and sat up abruptly. “He is such a dick!” You exclaim. “How did I deal with it for 5 years?”
“What exactly happened when he broke up with you?” Aaron asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
You took a deep breath. It was about time you shared the full story, no one knew it other than you and Luke. You hadn’t realised but Aaron had placed his hand on top of yours and engulfed it completely.
“It’s ok. Take your time.” He said with such care and kindness in his voice.
“Well, it was on our anniversary of all days. I guess we had been having some rocky patches, he didn’t like the idea of me moving to Washington and he especially didn’t like the idea of me joining the FBI. Luke is the reason it took me so long to apply for the BAU and when I finally did and told him, he was so annoyed!” Tears started to well in your eyes as you remember just how horrible the fight was and Aaron’s grip on your hand tightened which comforted you. “I ignored just how bad the fight was because everyone said it was normal but looking back, he was such a…”
“Fucking asshole.” Aaron interjected.
“Exactly. He’s exactly that.” You say. “The day he dumped me, everyone had got inside my head saying he was going to propose. My mom, sister and even his mom thought he was proposing. That’s why it hurt so bad, we were even… intimate the night before he dumped me.” Anger flared inside Aaron. How could anyone ever treat you like that? If he didn’t already hate Luke from his brief meeting with him this morning, he definitely hated him now. “No one really knew what to say to me, I was so heartbroken. I had to move back in with my parents and that’s when I decided I’d had enough and I packed up everything to come to Washington.”
“And thank god you did.” Aaron said with a smile. “The team wouldn’t work without you.” And you laughed.
“I’m going to go and get ready for bed.” You said, standing up and heading to the bathroom.
Once you locked yourself in the bathroom, you released a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. You just spilled your guts to Aaron and yet, you still knew so little about him.
***
Aaron was laying in bed when you came back from fetching a glass of water from the kitchen and you laughed.
“What’s funny now?” He asked, his voice slightly muffled from how he was laying with his head deep in the pillow.
“You’re too tall for the bed.” You giggled, walking round and placing the glass down on the bedside cabinet. You then pulled back the covers to climb in yourself. “When there’s two people in the bed, it makes me realise just how small it is.”
“I can sleep on the floor if that would be better?” Aaron offered, preparing to get out of bed.
“Don’t be stupid. You’ll get a bad back.” You said, shuffling to reposition more comfortably. “We’re just going to have to squeeze together. This is so cliché. The one bed trope from those cheesy romance books I read in college.” You groaned. “Thank you, again, for doing this for me though.”
“Stop thanking me Y/N, I wanted to help you.” Aaron replied, rolling over so he could face you.
Maybe it was the liquid courage still flowing through you from the party, but you lifted you hand and placed it on Aaron’s cheek, taking in all his features.
“You’re so handsome.” You mumbled, running your thumb across his lips and heat rose to Aaron’s cheeks before you leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. Aaron immediately reciprocated, his hand moving to your hip so naturally, gripping it tightly as the kiss grew more heated between you. His mouth trailed down your neck, sucking lightly at the base which elicited a small moan from your lips. This was the most intimate you had been with someone in a long time and it felt so right to be doing it with Aaron. But suddenly and abruptly, Aaron pulled away.
“Wha… what’s wrong?” You asked breathlessly, lips still tingling from the kiss.
“Maybe we should stop before we do something we’ll regret.” He replied, moving his hand from your hip.
“But?…” you paused. Maybe he was right, sex could make things awkward. Sex could ruin your friendship. Sex could fuck up this whole arrangement. “Yeah… yeah you’re right. Erm, goodnight Aaron.” You said reluctantly and turned over to face the wall.
“Night Y/N.” You heard Aaron mumble before you drifted off to sleep.
***
Aaron woke from the bright Los Angeles sun peeking through the gap in the curtain, he looked next to him at you. You had manoeuvred during the night and were sweetly nestled into Aaron’s torso, his arm wrapped around you.
‘It was right to stop last night.’ Aaron tried to convince himself. ‘If we had slept together, it would have only overcomplicated things.’
Aaron kept these thought stirring in his head to persuade himself that he made the right call. He leaned backwards carefully so not to disturb you to reach his watch. The hands read 6:08am. He was always an early bird as it was these early mornings where Aaron felt most at ease. He carefully moved his arm from where it was wrapped around you, trying his best not to wake you. You stirred a little before rolling over, still sound asleep. He grabbed his running gear he had packed with him just in case and began to change, glancing around the room for some paper. Once he was fully dressed, he wandered over to the desk and opened a draw to reveal a stack of bright pink post-it notes. Pink was clearly your favourite colour growing up he noted in his head. He scribbled down a message on the post-it and stuck it on the empty glass on your cabinet.
He quietly walked down the stairs, trying not to disturb your parents but was shocked when he saw your dad sat at the dinning table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper.
“We haven’t scared you off have we?” Your dad asked with a laugh.
“No sir.” Aaron chuckled. “Just heading out for a run before Y/N wakes up.”
“I’d ask to join you but my running days are behind me.” Your dad said. “Venice Beach was always my favourite place to run, I recommend it for your route today.”
“Thank you sir, I’ll keep it in mind.”
***
You woke up surprised to find the bed empty, the mattress cold. You stretched to try and wake yourself up before turning to the bedside cabinet to check the time on the clock but a pink post-it caught your attention. You picked it up and read Aaron’s scruffy handwriting: ‘Gone for a run, back soon x’. The kiss at the end taunted you as memories of yesterday flashed through your head. Kissing Aaron Hotchner was something you never thought would happen in a million years, yet here you were.
You pulled the duvet back and climbed out of bed, grabbing your phone and trying to turn it on but it was out of charge.
“For fucks sake.” You mutter and scavenge through your bags to find the charger. “It has to be somewhere!” You thought out loud.
“What are you looking for?” Came the deep voice of Aaron out of nowhere.
“Shit! You made me jump!” You exclaim and stand up, turning to look at him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in his appearance. The tight shirt he was wearing accentuated his arms and the running shorts showed off his muscular thighs. The glimmer of sweat on his face and the glow of heat from the exercise made him look even more handsome than usual. This was a look you could get used to seeing everyday.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He chuckled. “If you’re looking for your charger, it’s in the big suitcase over there.” He pointed to the case that sat near the wardrobe.
“Thanks.” You say and unzip the case, reaching in to look for the cable. As soon as you fished it out the case, you plugged it in quickly and waited for the phone to get some charge.
“I’m just going to have a quick shower and then I thought we could head out for some breakfast?” Aaron suggested.
“Yeah, that sounds good. We’ve been here a day and I already need a couple of hours away from my family.” You joked and Aaron nodded with understanding.
Immediately after he closed the door to the bathroom and you heard the water running, you turned your phone on and quickly typed a message out to Emily.
7:54AM | Y/N L/N: Help!!! I think I’m falling in love with Aaron.
7:57AM | Emily Prentiss: I did warn you it would happen! What went down at the engagement party?
7:59AM | Y/N L/N: My ex is still a dick as predicted. I kissed Aaron right in front of him and you should have seen his face LOL!
8:01AM |Emily Prentiss: Did anything other than kissing happen last night? ;)
8:02AM | Y/N L/N: Shut up.
8:04AM | Emily Prentiss: Ha! You didn’t answer my question which tells me YES! Something else did happen! Spill!
8:07AM | Y/N L/N: Fine! We made out a little after the party and I think we were going to have sex but Aaron said we should stop before we did something we might regret which was of course the right decision.
8:10AM | Emily Prentiss: OH MY GOD! Of course he said that, he is so down bad for you. He knows once you have sex with each other, there is no running away from his feelings. You need to sleep with him, I bet he’s actually quite good in bed. Do you think he’s as authoritative in bed as he is when we’re on a case?
8:12AM | Y/N L/N: Emily! Stop it! I have to go, I can hear Aaron coming out the shower.
And you switched your phone off before another text could come through from Emily. She was so enjoying this too much.
***
“Any idea where we should go for breakfast?” Aaron asked you.
“There’s this really amazing brunch bar near Santa Monica pier, I used to go there all the time with Sarah.”
“Sounds perfect.” He smiled as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Y/N? Is that you?” Your mom called from the kitchen.
You and Aaron saw her standing at the kitchen island drinking a fluorescent green smoothie.
“What’s up mom?”
“Ahh perfect! You’re both here. Sarah wanted me to ask you if you and Aaron could join her and Thomas for one of their last minute dance lessons.” She said excitedly.
You groaned like a miserable teenager. “Do we really have to? Aaron was just about to take me for brunch.”
“Yes! It will be great fun.”
You knew then, there was absolutely no getting out of this one.
***
The Wedding Date Taglist: @wanniiieeee @notsopersonalcharlie @blackeyedangel9805 @preciousbabypeter @stxlemate @twilightlover2007 @justarandommom @impala1967dwinchester @spencermiromantiko @julyhoney @thecubanator2 @xphantomphanphanaticx @lawlesshedgehog @louderfortheback @ssamorganhotchner @essenceproxima @lespendy @stiles-argent24 @rousethemouse @tvdstelenaforever @wandererseye @bibella8swan @yourfavunsub @bibimangines @lou-the-confused-bisexual @realm8626 @sophiaj650 @bylones @howabouticallyou @madz-19 @hotchnerxo @supercriminalbean @jayxox @sweetpeterparker @mina2000alex
I tagged those who commented and reblogged part one. Let me know if you want to be removed or tagged🫶🏻
***
Part three
2K notes · View notes
huffelpuff210 · 3 months
Text
The Deal part 2 Soft Dark Mob boss Stucky x Reader
You were currently laying in your bed, in your small home, that you knew you were gonna have to give up, 
Steve and Bucky were very clear, and you didn’t have much of a choice, 
You were to be their girl, in exchange, you give up your home, they said you were going to live with them, 
They said you were to marry them within two weeks, and if you ran  they would find you and you wouldn’t like how they would get you to comply,  you still didn’t completely understand why they had their sights set on you, 
There were plenty of women out there they could have right?
you heard a knock on your bedroom door, 
“Hey, I’m going out.” Andy says
You look at the clock, it was three in the morning, 
“Just don’t get in trouble.” You say 
“Like you can tell me what to do.” He sneers leaving the room
You sigh turning on your side, 
it doesn’t surprise you how your brother treats you, your family treated you the same way why should your older brother be any different, why should the men you have been forced into a corner just because of your brother be any different, 
The next morning you are sitting at the island with your coffee, you were about to head out when your brother walks in covered in bruises and blood 
he storms over to you 
“What did you do?!” He yells cornering you 
“What are you talking about?” You ask in a dull tone that is so rehearsed since this has happened many times, he goes on his binges then comes home high or drunk, he is gripping both of your arms so tightly,
“Steve and Bucky! they own this town! they-” He began but suddenly a voice cuts him off, 
“Now that’s no way to treat a lady.” You hear a familiar voice that sent goosebumps up your spine, 
You look past your brother to see Steve and Bucky standing there in their handsome suits, arms crossed, 
Your brother lets go of you he spins on his heel, 
“Get the fuck out of my house!” Your brother yells, 
Both Steve and Bucky chuckle 
“Last time we checked, this isn’t your house.” Steve says 
“Yeah, her name is on the deed, not yours.” Bucky says
“And since we own her now thanks to you, this is our house as well.” Bucky says 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Your brother asked in a seething tone, 
“You see your dear sister, was so worried for your safety that she signed a contract with us.” Steve says 
Yes you signed a contract agreeing to all the terms, as long as they don’t cause you any sort of harm, which they agreed to, you couldn’t run away, you had to do as they said, you were to marry them, have their children, in exchange they would give you everything you ever wanted, provide you with comfort and security, keep you safe, 
“Y/N come over here.” Bucky’s deep voice broke you out of your thoughts 
just as you were about to take the first step your brother grabbed you by the upper arm, 
“She’s not going anywhere with you two!” Your brother yelled, 
You sighed in annoyance 
“You know they could kill you right?” you said 
they both chuckled at your comment
“Shut up.” He says to you
Steve sighs in annoyance, 
“Sam take care of him, he’s too ignorant to understand,” Steve says 
Suddenly my brother is yanked back and pistol whipped, 
“Come here kitten.” Bucky says using  his finger as if calling a puppy, you walk towards them, Steve checks the now forming bruises on your arms, and growls, 
“It’s fine.” You say, 
They both look at one another, 
“We were gonna wait until tomorrow to come get you, but as soon as we seen your big brother starting trouble that you were going to have to clean up we decided it was in your best interest that we have a word with him, and stop by to pick you up anyway.” Steve says inspecting if you were hurt any were else
“It seems he never learns.” Bucky grumbles
“It’s fine I’ve seen worse at work.” You say 
They both chuckle at your comment, 
“Speaking of we thought it would be best if you just quit that job,we’ve got a better position for you anyway.” Bucky says 
“What?” You asked 
They both smirked at your reaction. 
“Besides we can’t have our girl killing herself at a dead beet job that doesn’t appreciate her.” Steve says his hand on your cheek as his thumb pulls your lower lip down, 
“Lets go kitten.” Bucky says guiding you out of the home 
113 notes · View notes
hazbininlove · 7 months
Text
Hopelessly Devoted - Chapter 3
-About 5.5k. No real warnings in this chapter!
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Charlie is more or less freaking out at the moment. She received news a week ago that Esther would be coming back down to assist with the Hotel and would be bringing a guest. Now today is the day of that visit and she feels like nothing is ready. Everything in the hotel feels out of place and she doesn’t know how to fix it.
“Charlie, you need to relax,” Vaggie says, coming up to her and placing her hands on Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie grabs at her own hair in frustration.
“I can’t, Vaggie! Esther didn’t come into the hotel last time and I just want it to be perfect! And she said she’s bringing someone else! What if it’s Sera? What if it’s Michael?! WHAT IF IT'S GOD?!”
“Charlie! She’s not bringing God to our hotel! And I doubt she’d bring Michael here! He’s probably the last person who’d ever willingly down here.”
Charlie groans and slumps into Vaggies hold. “What am I gonna dooooooo-“
“Do about what?”
“Ah!” Charlie jumps out of Vaggie’s hold and looks to the entrance where her dad is standing. His eyebrows furrow in concern.
“You doing alright, apple pie? You look uhhh kinda tired,” he inquires.
“Dad! Hi! I could really use your help right now! Esther is coming down any minute now and he’s bringing someone and-“
“Esther!” Her dad yells, his hands now gripping her arms. “She’s coming here?! Today?! Now?!!”
“Ooooh I see I forgot to mention that,” Charlie replies sheepishly, laughing awkwardly to herself. “I knew I was forgetting something.”
Lucifer’s hands let go of her to grip his own hair, knowing his hat off his head. He starts pacing as he freaks out.
“Oh hell she’s coming here. I haven’t prepared anything. Nothing has felt right! I haven’t even had the time to fix up my wings. My WINGS!”
He yells, and his wings pop out behind him in the largest form Charlie’s seen from him in months, knocking over a painting as he does so. “Satan’s smelly asscrack! They’re a mess! How the fuck am I supposed to impress her with this disaster?!”
“I don’t think Uncle Satan would appreciate that comment,” Charlie mumbles, trying to defuse the situation.
“He’s an ugly sweaty fuck! He can handle a few insults in his name!” Lucifer yells back. He pauses, groans, and rubs at his temples. “Sorry, apple pie. I’m just nervous and didn’t mean to yell. Satan definitely deserves it though.”
“Aren’t the two of you supposed to be twins or something?” Vaggie asks, approaching the two of them. “Isn’t that why people confuse you two so often?”
“Aha, no, you know all those pictures of a red dude with horns that people think is me? That’s Satan. He’s just such a damn menace that of course when shit goes sideways, they think he’s the actual devil which then confuses people and- you know what? It’s a whole thing. The point is, he smells like shit half the time I see him and I think he does it on purpose.”
“Dad, I think we’re off track again. Why are you freaking out about your wings? And can you please make them smaller before you break anything else?” Charlie asks.
Sheepishly, Lucifer does just that, letting them get smaller until they’re at a more appropriate size indoors. He snaps his fingers to fix the things he knocked over and continues pacing as he fiddles with his hands.
How does one explain to their daughter that he has an inside joke of sorts with his soulmate and now as part of proving himself to her again, he has to behave like a duck during mating season and impress her.
Shit, had Esther even meant that literally? Knowing her humor, she probably did, though she definitely expected more than just that as an apology. He wasn’t entirely sure how to apologize either. He’d told her everything the week before. Of course, just because he explained and apologized doesn’t mean she had to forgive him. And he knew one apology wouldn’t make up for several millennia apart, due to his own actions, but he really didn’t know what else to say or even do to make it up to her.
It just stressed him out more that he couldn’t think of anything to do about this. He couldn’t lose her again, not when he finally had a second chance. He’d been struggling to sleep for the past week just thinking about her. Her beautiful dark blue eyes, her wavy black hair with the streaks of white, the rich blue on the underside of her beautiful wings. Lucifer feels his heart beat a little faster at the thought of her bright smile aimed at him, eyes crinkled at the end in pure joy and those cheek marks on the corner of her mouth so high they almost look like they’re reaching her eyes.
“It’s nothing Char,” he replies to his daughter. “I just want to look my best when she arrives. And you said she’s bringing a gues- Who the fuck is she bringing?”
“We don’t know, sir. We can only assume it’s another angel,” Vaggie answers for her, likely stopping Charlie from panicking again.
“Oh fuck me! It’s probably Michael! It’s definitely Michael,” he replies, hands in his hair again as his eyes start to turn red and his voice sounds almost layered. “She talked about him so much last time, it probably is him. That fucker probably did mess with her head. She said she doesn’t love him but someone with Stockholm Syndrome probably wouldn’t admit they have it!”
“Okay!” Charlie claps loudly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here! Vaggie’s right. We need to relax and think things through. I doubt she’d bring him of all people here. So let’s just focus on one thing at a time! Like cleaning up the lobby!”
Lucifer looks at his daughter with a blank stare and snaps his finger. A burst of gold sparks from his hand and sweeps around the room, cleaning up any dust and straightening out paintings and chairs alike as it goes.
“Can I go back to panicking now?”
“No!” Charlie yells, grabbing her dad and leading him towards the elevators. “We’re going to go get ourselves looking presentable!”
Vaggie watches in amusement but also concern as her girlfriend drags her whining father out of the lobby. Looking around the room, he definitely did a good job of cleaning up and saved them a good amount of time. Especially after the disaster left in the wake of Charlie’s own panicking.
She’s thankful that her and Charlie’s relationship isn’t as complicated as Lucifer’s and Esther’s. She feels bad for them. Knowing what she knows now, it all seemed like a “right person, wrong time” situation. And who knows how long those two even actually spent together before Lucifer had fallen.
The books she read aren’t exactly clear on how long between Lucifer’s creation and the creation of Eden took place. Lucifer is older than Earth, that much she knows, but how much older remains a mystery to everyone except the man himself, and she isn’t sure if asking is appropriate.
And to an immortal being who’s been around for as long as he has and still looks like a relatively young adult, how does time pass for him? Sinners remain the age they died at, but was Lucifer like Adam, Lilith, and Eve? Was he also created as an adult? Were the older angels created as children and then raised into adulthood before the aging stopped? Looking at a picture of Lucifer and Charlie, Lucifer looks the same age now as he did then. Now that Charlie’s older, he looks like he could’ve been a teenage father.
Had Lucifer and Esther had thousands of years between their creation and the Earth’s creation to spend together, or had it just been a few short years together before their forced separation? It doesn’t really matter, at the end of the day. They seemed to be the first and most functional of three pairs of soulmates ever made.
Like Esther had said the day before. The first attempt to recreate them ended in disaster with Adam and Lilith, Eve… No one in heaven had seen Eve in thousands of years and Adam never cared to talk about her besides when insulting her. The only pair that seemed to want to be together was Lucifer and Esther, and even they weren’t actually together because of the miscommunication between them that caused eons of loneliness for the two of them.
No wonder God never made more soulmates. The more Vaggie thinks about it, the more her head starts to hurt. She walks around the lobby instead, making sure nothing was out of place even with Lucifer’s magic.
A knock on the door alerted her to a guest. Vaggie paused, looking over to the bar where Husk had paused in his own polishing, and stared back at her.
“Try to keep the drinks to a minimum, please,” she says to him. He rolls his eyes but continues wiping the bar as she walks towards the door.
Before she can reach the door, a swirl of shadows lifts from the ground, and she curses to herself as she sees Alastor appear from it. She’s practically sprinting and he shifts his eyes to look at her, smile stretched impossibly wide, as he grips the door and pulls it open.
”Welcome, dear guests, to the Hazbin Hotel,” he says, greeting the two at the door.
There is Esther, smiling softly in greeting, with a taller man beside her. His skin is ghostly white like Lucifer’s, but his hair is black like Esther’s. It’s a bit longer than Lucifer’s, falling more into his face and curling around his neck. His suit is impeccable, white pants, black coat, and gray waistcoat. Along the shoulders of his coat are black pads lined in silver with intricate designs. His eyes are dark gray, bordering on blue closer to the pupils.
He looks like royalty, carries himself with an air of importance, but his eyes look soft and his expression is easygoing. It takes Vaggie a few moments before his appearance clicks in her mind.
This is Azrael, the Archangel of Death, the Virtue of Patience.
He’s rarely seen in any of the spheres of Heaven. He, like Raphael, spends most of his time on Earth. When he does return to Heaven, he passes through the spheres and says his hellos, but typically spends most of his time on Primum Mobile with the other higher ranking angels that aren’t ruling over a sphere like Sera.
If he spends any time in another sphere, it’s likely the first sphere where the majority of the winners reside, or in the third sphere where he was created, Venus, just as Lucifer and Esther were.
Well, Azrael is certainly better than Michael in terms of who would stress Lucifer out the most, but Vaggie isn’t holding out much hope. Esther had mentioned that Azrael was likely to visit, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Especially since it’s only her second visit.
At least she could say that of all the virtues or archangels to bring, the Virtue of Patience would probably be the best to deal with all the chaos the people of this hotel were capable of causing.
Both of their wings were tucked away and out of sight, which was probably for the best both to get them through the door and so they wouldn’t take up too much space. They likely planned on spending a good amount of time there, if that was the case.
Vaggie bows to both of them, nervous at the sight of one of Heaven’s strongest angels. Azrael doesn’t fight, might as well be a pacifist, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable. The Seven Capital Virtues all have more power than most beings besides God himself, and even they aren’t the top of the hierarchy the way that the Seven Deadly Sins were down here in Hell.
“Welcome! It’s an honor for you to visit us,” Vaggie says. She may not live in Heaven anymore, or agree with everything they do, but even she knows the Virtues and the Archangel of Death deserved her utmost respect. Esther visiting had been a shock, especially since Vaggie had never seen her so she didn’t know her importance.
“Please, no need for all of that,” Azrael replies. His voice is light, almost airy, but strong. It’s so different from Lucifer’s rich and smooth tone of voice. Lucifer, despite his awkwardness around his daughter, talks in a voice that is loud and boisterous when he wants it to be, like he’s demanding attention. Azrael’s voice sounds more like a soft breeze, calming and comforting.
She supposes when it’s your job to console the souls of the dead and guide them towards their final resting place, a comforting tone is probably for the best.
“I assume you know who I am?” Azrael asks, taking a step into the hotel after gesturing for Esther to enter first. Vaggie nods, not sure what else to say. “I don’t get to say this often, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He holds his hand out for her to shake, and she takes it. His grip is just as soft as his voice. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”
“None of that. Azrael is just fine,” he replies.
Behind them, Esther is greeting Husk and Alastor. Vaggie wants to warn Esther that staying away from Alastor is for the best, especially considering Lucifer’s hatred for the other man, but there’s really no nice way to say that.
Lucifer’s not going to be happy when he sees both a brother of his that he hasn’t seen in eons suddenly here, and Alastor around the love of his life.
Today’s gonna be a shitty day in hell, that’s for sure.
“Well, where is our lovely host? I’ve been dying to meet my little niece,” Azrael says, looking around the lobby. Esther chuckles behind him.
“The puns will never stop with you, will they?” Esther asks him, a knowing smirk on her lips.
“Not until my last breath,” he teases back. It’s then that Vaggie realizes he’s been making references to death. It’s not something she expected, but knowing how Lucifer acts, she can’t say she’s entirely surprised that the weird jokes run in the family. “Now, my niece, please?”
“Right, yeah, she actually just went upstairs with her dad a few minutes ago, so they should be down shortly,” Vaggie’s replies. She wants to offer to go get them, but the idea of leaving them alone with Alastor sounds like a bad idea. Especially knowing that Husk is likely too drunk even this early in the afternoon to do anything about it.
Something in Azrael’s eyes flash at the mention of Lucifer, and his smile tightens just a bit. It’s not a good sign in Vaggie’s eyes.
“Samael is here as well? How splendid, I’ve missed the little one,” Azrael says back. Vaggie sees Esther roll her eyes at the nickname. It appears Lucifer’s height is a running joke. “My workload increased drastically when my fellow angel of death fell. Of course there are others but Samael was always a joy to work with.”
“You know he prefers to be called Lucifer,” Esther scolds him. Azrael pats her gently. They don’t look alike, besides the black hair, but they act almost like siblings.
The way Lucifer and Esther were created, to be practically married, and the fact that they’ve known each other for thousands of years, Vaggie wouldn’t be surprised if the other Virtues did see her as a sister.
Azrael hums but stays silent on the subject. Instead he chooses to move around the lobby. He goes to the bar to greet a stressed looking Husk as Esther approaches her.
“It’s Vaggie, correct?” She asks and Vaggie nods. “It’s nice to see you again, dear. I apologize for not mentioning Azrael’s visit. He likes surprises and once he has it in his head, there’s no stopping him.”
“Yes ma’am. It was definitely surprising, but I think that’s because I tend to forget that Charlie’s dad was also a high ranking angel.”
“Technically, he still is,” Esther replies. She smiles down at Vaggie, her eyes warm despite the dark cool blue color they have. “He may not be allowed in Heaven anymore, nor is he a Virtue as he once was, but he’s still one of the oldest and strongest of the angels.”
“How interesting,” Alastor says, approaching them. “One would think we’d see more of this strength you speak of.”
“If that was the case, you’d be wiped from existence with the way you like pissing him off, asshole,” Vaggie replies to him. She pauses for a moment to look back at Esther and apologize for her language, but the angel doesn’t look upset at all.
“Well, I suppose some good came from our king’s reclusive nature then!”
Alastor’s eye twitches but he says nothing more, thankfully.
Even after the battle against Adam, Vaggie knows that was nowhere near Lucifer’s full strength. The man was once a Virtue, an Archangel who answered directly to God, and a Seraphim, the highest rank of the angels. He wasn’t called God’s favorite angel for nothing. With all the power Lucifer was given upon his creation, being called the favorite almost felt like an understatement.
Not that there weren’t angels stronger than Lucifer, but Vaggie read about the fall. Lucifer wasn’t just tossed out of the gates like Charlie’s story makes it seem. Lucifer fought, and he fought hard. Michael may have led the charge against him, and been the one to throw him and Lilith towards hell, but it took several angels, mostly Seraphim, to finally weaken him.
Lucifer truly was a terrifying being, even before becoming the first sin.
“I hope you know you have nothing to worry about, dear,” Esther says to her as Alastor walks away. “If he’s anything like he was before, he’s never cared much for power.”
That much is obvious. Alastor didn’t call him a recluse for nothing. Lucifer has made it clear many times that he doesn’t care for sinners or want to truly rule them. The only times he shows off his powers is when he wants to show off for Charlie or do something for her.
“Now, tell me about the hotel, dear. Any new arrivals?”
Vaggie sits with her on the couches as she discusses the details. She’d prefer Charlie to be here, but she won’t keep her waiting either.
They haven’t had any new guests. Half the sinners were scared another attack would come from Heaven and wanted to avoid it. A few cannibals wanted to but really only for the promise of more angels attacking so they could eat more angels. Rosie had taken those few back quickly enough.
Vaggie wasn’t going to mention the cannibals to her, though she did mention their dilemma.
“I see, so an announcement should be made then, to confirm the end of these exterminations,” Esther decides.
That would require either Vox or Katie Killjoy, neither of which Vaggie wanted to deal with or felt Esther should have to.
Before she can respond, the elevator dings. Before she turns, she notices Azrael’s attention now off of Husk and turning towards the elevator as well.
“Okay, we’re ready to get this plan done!” Charlie says as she exits the elevators! Lucifer is behind her, messing with his clothes and patting himself down to make sure nothing is out of place.
“Uhh, Charlie?” Vaggie says, loudly enough for Charlie to hear her. Charlie looks to her, catches sight of Esther, and her eyes go wide.
“Oh shit she’s here already!”
“Where?!” Lucifer calls from behind her, his wings once more popping up. He doesn’t make them as large as last time, but they definitely look a bit better compared to minutes before. They puff up behind him, shaking a bit like a rattle snake’s tail, though clearly more from anxiety than warning.
Vaggie’s eyes shift to look at Esther, who’s covered her mouth a bit and looked away from the display, though based on the way her cheeks are raised, she’s trying to hide a smile.
“Well isn’t this a marvelous display?” a soft voice says. Vaggie turns to her other side where Azrael is standing now beside her, a smile on his face just as before. “Wonderful display of wings, brother.”
“A-Azrael? What are you doing here?” Lucifer shuffles closer to the door of the now closed elevator.
“I do believe Esther mentioned my desire for a visit. I simply couldn’t pass up the chance when she mentioned her plans to return so soon. It’s not often I have a moment to myself after all. But enough of that, this must be my niece, Charlotte, correct?”
“Yes! Hi! I’m Charlie! Um- Uncle?”
Azrael chuckles at Charlie’s stammering and approaches them. It’s at that moment that Lucifer moves forward, eyes narrowed and wings spread high and wide to cover Charlie behind him.
“What are you doing here?” Lucifer repeats, his tone much harsher now compared to his panicked tone before. Esther moves forward now, stepping between Lucifer and Azrael calmly.
She steps closer to Lucifer and grabs one of his hands. “Listen to him first, please. Don’t be rash.”
“Don’t be- You want me to believe one of my brothers just suddenly wants to visit?! Out of the goodness of his heart?!”
“Lucifer-“
“It’s fine, dear,” Azrael says, cutting Esther off. Lucifer’s eyes narrow further at the term of endearment. “He has every right to be suspicious. Our siblings, myself included, have let this go on for far too long right under our noses. And after the last time he saw us, it’s only fair he should be worried.”
Lucifer looks at Azrael with suspicion as he continues.
“Worry not, dear brother, I have no ill will. My intentions were solely to express my apologies for not being aware of this massacre of souls.”
Lucifer’s wings lower a bit when Esther’s hand tightens on his own. He looks at her briefly before looking back at Azrael and rolling his shoulders, allowing his wings to fully disappear again. Esther sighs in relief in front of him and gives him a comforting smile before moving completely out of the way, giving them the full view of Azrael.
It’s Charlie who looks between the three of them before coughing and offering them a seat. Both men nod and Charlie guides them back to the couches where Vaggie is still sitting.
“Thank you, my dear. It truly is wonderful to finally be able to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances but I suppose there’s no better time than the present,” Azrael says to Charlie. She lights up a bit as she sits beside Vaggie, and motions for him to sit across from her. Esther sits beside him on the couch, and Lucifer looks conflicted before taking a seat beside his daughter, his scowl clear and directed at his brother. “I’m sure you’re aware, but I am Azrael, one of your father’s older brothers. You may call me uncle if you’d like!”
Lucifer’s scowl deepens but says nothing as Charlie squeals in excitement and bursts with questions towards the older man. Vaggie is grateful that Azrael just happens to be the Virtue of Patience, because she isn’t sure any of the other Seven, especially Michael, would’ve lasted as long as him or answered as many questions.
“Babe, slow down. How about we talk about the hotel,” Vaggie suggests. Charlie takes a deep breath before rushing to go get her poster presentation that she’d apparently made especially for this.
She goes into detail about how she understands the number of sinners is greater than the number of winners which is why redemption would help even out the numbers and keep Hell’s population more steady. Azrael and Esther nod along as she speaks, taking in all of the information she presents to them.
“My biggest concern is that so far, we’ve only redeemed one person, and we had to watch him die for that to happen. Does that mean every sinner has to die and just hope they’ll be redeemed?”
“That’s hard to say,” Azrael replies. “Little is known about this, or that redemption was even possible. It shouldn’t be a surprise though. Father always says there is time in one’s life to repent for their ways.”
Charlie nods, happy that someone agrees.
“However,” Azrael continues, “it’s hard to say exactly in the afterlife. There’s a reason I never realized what was going on. I am fine tuned to the lives of living souls, and it is my job to guide them towards their afterlife, whether that be Heaven or Hell. Once they pass either gate, my connection to that soul is lost. They are not meant to die again in their afterlife. They are meant to remain where they are, whether that be punishment in Hell for their sins, or reward for their good behavior in Heaven.”
“But we can change that! We can give sinners a chance to repent in their afterlife,” Charlie replies. Azrael nods, but his face grows a bit more serious.
”I will be honest with you, dear child. This is new territory for all of us. We have yet to see if the souls of the dead can receive a retrial that does not require a second death. But if those from Heaven can fall,” Azrael says, his eyes shifting briefly to Lucifer beside Charlie, “then I have no doubt those from Hell should be able to ascend. I ask that you remain patient as we all navigate through this new discovery.”
Charlie nods along and Azrael smiles brightly at her. He stands, patting down his clothes to remove any wrinkles and offers his hand to Charlie.
”Now! I would love to hear more of your plans to entice sinners to the idea of redemption and a tour of this lovely establishment of yours! Let’s go, I believe your father needs a break from my presence and I would love to hear more about you without his glare on my head,” Azrael announces, already walking towards the elevator with Charlie who’d taken his hand. Vaggie follows after them, confused and a bit entertained by the man’s behavior.
“Now hold on a minute,” Lucifer begins to say, before he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks over his shoulder at Esther who is smiling at him, and nearly forgets his worries. “Esther, I don’t know how I feel about this.”
”Do you believe I’d bring anyone here that would harm your daughter?” She asks in return. Lucifer pouts a bit but shakes his head. “He’s been very excited about this trip to meet her. The other Seven have wanted to visit as well but Azrael convinced them not to overwhelm you.”
“I think I would prefer Ramiel. Or Raphael. Or Uriel- Or, really anyone but Michael,” Lucifer replies. “Ramiel definitely would be preferred though.”
“Funny you should say that. Uriel and Cassiel send their regards, by the way. They say they love and miss you, and that they will be sure to judge you themselves should I choose to forgive you.” Esther laughs when Lucifer throws his head back and groans. “Ramiel managed to convince them not to, though Michael… Well you know how Michael is. He is hopeful, though he has his concerns.”
“Michael can shove his concerns up his own ass,” Lucifer mumbles to himself, though he smiles finally when Esther laughs a bit at his words. She moves her hand down his arm until it stops around his forearm just below his elbow. He instinctively curls his arm and moves his other to hold her hand on his arm.
“How about you give me your own tour?” She asks him, changing the subject. “I didn’t get to see the hotel last time I was here.”
Lucifer nods and guides her through the hotel for his own tour while his daughter shows his brother around. He’s still wary of it all, but he knows Esther is right. She wouldn’t bring anyone that would hurt them, and Azrael is the least likely, besides Raphael who’s dedicated his life to saving lives, to ever start a fight. Had it been Michael, Lucifer isn’t sure if he could’ve been stopped from attacking him on the spot. He at least has much fonder memories of Azrael.
He guides Esther through the hotel, showing off some of the different rooms such as the parlor, kitchen, or the more recreational areas he added himself simply because he could upon the hotel’s reconstruction. He puffs his chest in pride as she looks on, impressed by the hotel’s amenities.
He vaguely motions towards Alastor’s radio tower, not keen on taking her there, and she doesn’t question his reasoning, thankfully. She seemed to have caught onto his distaste.
Instead, towards the end of their tour, he leads her towards his own workshop. Not his room, he knows she won’t appreciate that level of forwardness, but he knows his new growing collection of rubber ducks will amuse her.
It’s not something he’d typically show off to anyone, and he’s sure under normal circumstances this isn’t something you’d show to someone you were interested in dating, but Esther wasn’t just anyone. This was something so much more than dating.
Part of him wondered, after Hell’s creation, if maybe they were meant to be separated. If humans were allowed to choose their partner, why couldn’t he? It had bugged him for so long. Part of it was what led to Charlie’s creation if he was being honest. But then he’d think of Esther, of her beauty and kindness, of the warmth he felt just when her eyes were on him, and he thought being bound to someone like her was the greatest gift his father ever gave him. He doesn’t regret Charlie, not in the slightest, even if he wishes Charlie’s mother could’ve been Esther, but sometimes he thinks his greatest punishment wasn’t his fall, it was the loss of his other half.
He’d give up everything if it meant another chance with her.
He leads her into his workshop, grinning proudly at the wonder in his eyes at the sight of all his rubber ducks.
She moves further into the room as she lets go of his arm, rushing towards the ducks in the rooms and grabbing at a few.
“Lucifer, what is all of this?” she asks as she chuckles, holding a rubber duck in her hands to inspect its design.
“My rubber duck collection,” he says, laughing to himself as he picks one up. “This isn’t even half of it.”
“Where are the rest?”
“In my manor,” he responds. He sits at his desk and watches her inspect another duck. “I think I made at least one a day for years.”
”That… doesn’t sound very healthy,” Esther says, lowering the duck in her hand and approaching him.
”No, I don’t think it was,” he responded, a melancholic smile on his face. “But they were something that comforted me when I felt like everything else was falling apart. Lilith left, can’t say it was without warning. She was getting tired of my moping and there was really nothing either of us could do about it. The friendship was already falling apart after Charlie’s birth. We tried to get along, we’re still friends, I think, but she didn’t want my hatred for Hell to affect Charlie. Charlie and I weren’t always close because of it. And for a long time, I felt more alone than ever. So I started making these to take my mind off things, and it helped.”
Esther is silent as she kneels in front of him, a hand on his knee in comfort.
She looks at him with those beautiful dark blue eyes, hair falling into them, and he reaches out to move her hand behind her ear.
”Why ducks?” She asks, voice just above a whisper.
”They reminded me of you,” he replies, pressing his forehead against hers. “They were something we created together. I used to create these beautiful projections of them for Charlie when she was a little girl and she loved them. They felt like a little piece of you here with me.”
Esther’s hand that isn’t on his knee moves to his hair, moving through the short hairs on the back of his neck.
“I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I’ll admit I wanted to sometimes. I thought maybe it’d hurt less if I just erased the memory of you, but then I’d think of your smile and everything hurt a little less. I’d think of the times we spent together, of how blissful everything felt with you by my side, and I couldn’t forget you. And then Charlie was born and I wanted her to have a piece of that happiness.”
He closes his eyes as his hands comb through her hair, enjoying the feeling of her’s in his own.
”You truly are something special, Lucifer Morningstar,” Esther says to him. He chuckles lightly and lifts his head to place a kiss on her forehead.
“Only because of you, Esther Eveningstar,” he replies, lips still pressed against her skin.
He never wants to be apart from her again.
————————————————————————
Apologies for any typos. My sleep schedule this week has been lacking to say the least.
Another character introduced! Learning about Azrael was fun for this. When I read he was from the “third heaven” I panicked a bit because it didn’t seem to fit with Dante’s spheres of paradise, but then I remembered that he and Lucifer(Samael) are angels of death, so having them all from the same sphere felt fitting! I was originally going to have Ramiel be the first to visit, as the Virtue of Kindness, but decided on Azrael instead because I thought Patience would be the best for Lucifer to be reintroduced to.
Anyways, at this point I feel like I can’t post a chapter unless I include a drawing at the end. This time I I decided I wanted to draw an idea for Lucifer’s look when he was still the Virtue of Humility. The Story of Hell shows him in a robe and still with his hat. I’ve seen people say his eyes were blue before his fall, but as his name means “the shining one” I feel like gold is more fitting. I also headcanon that his halo didn’t take the shape of a snake until after his fall, with the apple being added because of his actions, and as he took on a more demonic form, his appearance shifted as well. His eyes shifted to red, and when in his demonic form, his irises shift back to gold, but now with red sclera.
I’m not entirely happy with this drawing but, I didn’t want to hold off on posting the chapter so here it is!
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Taglist: @dreamcatcher62 @art3misa635 @cimadreamer
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avilthings · 6 months
Text
Spring Shedding
Plot: Poor Husk isn’t the best at handling shedding season
Pairing: Husk x gn!reader
Length: 1.3K
Type: SFW ~ Fluff
Editing credit: To the lovely @irkimatsu who always cleans up my work🫶
It’s been two days since you’ve seen Husk at the bar. You’ve been staying at the hotel long enough to know that not seeing Husk at the bar is unusual. He’s usually always there sipping on a bottle of cheap booze.
The hotel has been rather quiet this past little bit with Charlie and Vaggie busy coming up with plans at Lucifer’s estate and Angel working many hours. For as odd as it was seeing the hotel so quiet you actually enjoyed it. It was a nice change of pace from the usual chaos. However, you were now quite curious about where Husk has been these last two days.
~~
“Oh good, Niffty! Wait… what is that?” You point to the clump of fur in her hand lowkey disturbed.
“For my collection!” Niffty grins before scurrying away.
“Wait, I was going to ask if you’ve seen Alastor!” You try calling out, but Niffty is already gone.
“You needed something?”
You jump as Alastor appears from shadows behind you. “Jesus Christ Al! Don’t sneak up on people!”
“Hmph, I simply heard my name and answered, dear. Is that so wrong?”
“It is when you almost send people into cardiac arrest!” You sigh before getting back to the topic at hand. “Listen, I was just going to ask if you’ve seen Husk. It’s unusual to not see him at the bar.”
“Ah yes~ Husker was getting rather frustrated with the amount of fur getting into his drinks.”
“Wait, fur…? Niffty had a clump of fur in her hands not too long ago…” You recall your interaction with her.
“Yes, poor Niffty has been working overtime with the amount of fur Husker has been leaving all over the hotel.” Alastor says, sympathizing with Niffty. Whether it was genuine or not, you’ll never know. “It is shedding season after all!” Alastor states matter of factly before heading off.
‘Shedding season…’ you think to yourself, processing Alastor words.
~~
*knock knock*
“Husk? You in there?”
“Go away, I’m not in the mood.”
Not wanting to push, you leave, wanting to think of a better way to approach this issue.
While alive, you had many animals and worked in the field of taking care of them. You were very good at managing fur, from double coats to long and short coats. You knew you could help Husk because of this, and wanted to help him since he’s helped you before, even if it was just lending an ear.
That’s when you got a plan…
~~
*knock knock*
“I thought I told you to fucking go away earlier!” Husk snapped.
“You did, and I listened. Now it’s later… plus, I brought some rather expensive alcohol this time.” You smirk from behind the door knowing Husk’s ears probably perked up at that.
Not too long after that comment, the door opens slightly. Husk doesn’t seem to want to come out though, and is mostly hidden behind the door.
“If you’re going to have some of my expensive whiskey, we’re going to enjoy it together,” you emphasize. Husk grumbles, but finally lets you in.
“Don’t say a word!” he warns. You knew instantly he was referring to both the way he looked and the state of his room. Husk had chunks of fur falling out as well as a few bald spots from where he probably pulled the fur out. The room was no better, with fur and the occasional feathers everywhere.
You take the whiskey and glasses out of the small bag you had before setting them down on a nearby coffee table. Husk instantly pours himself a glass.
“Ah~ been awhile since I had the good shit.” Husk says, sitting back into a comfy chair.
“It’s not the only thing I have in my bag…”
“Hm?” Husk grunts, almost curious, but also in a way that says ‘I don’t give a fuck unless it’s more alcohol.’ You empty the bag and three brushes fall out.
“NO!” Husk says as soon as he sees the brushes, knowing exactly what you wanted to do.
“Hear me out, okay?. In my life, I worked a lot with different types of fur coats. I understand how to properly groom and take care of them, it’s what I did for a living. I know you don’t want help, but I can see how much this is bothering you. You’re always there for everyone else listening to their problems and even lending advice at times. Let me return the favour and be there for you.”
After a long sip of his (your) whiskey, he gets up and sits on the floor by you and the coffee table.
“This stays between us, got it?”
Your face lights up at this. “It will, I promise. Now, what’s the area causing you the most trouble?”
“My back and torso have the thickest amount of hair, but I don’t want you touching my wings or tail,” Husk says as he turns around, allowing you access to his back.
“I won’t. I have a curry comb which I’ll use to get the already loose fur out, then a special deshedding comb which will be the main brush I use, and finally a slicker brush to help the coat look nice and sleek after.” You let Husk know your process so he’s not startled by what you’re doing or confused as to why you’e doing it.
“As long as I get to keep drinking this whiskey, knock yourself out,” Husk comments, not seeming to care much.
You begin by getting a feel for his fur to understand the type of coat he has. Once you have a plan of what to do, you start working. You’re careful not to touch or go near his wings as you work away.
~~
It’s been an hour now, and you’ve finally finished his back. The amount of fur that came out was almost startling. Both you and Husk hadn’t noticed but at some point while grooming his back he had started purring.
“I’m going to move to your chest now. Can you turn around?”
Husk complies, moving to face you. Seeing him this close knowing you would be touching his chest was enough to dust your cheeks a light pink. Thankfully, Husk didn’t seem to notice, as he was mostly interested in the alcohol.
“I’m going to start.”
It wasn’t until you touched his chest that you felt the vibrations of him purring. It was a low purr, which is why you hadn’t noticed it earlier. Now that you were aware of it, it became clear as day. Best not to comment on it, though, you figured.
As you worked through Husk’s chest fur, you soon realized how thick this particular area was and how long it would take. Husk had already finished off the bottle of whiskey and you still had a ways to go.
“This area is going to take a while. Sorry! It’s just very thick and where most of your shedding is coming from,” you warned, quietly a little worried he’d get mad or ask you to stop. Instead, he did something you never would’ve expected.
Husk lay his head in your lap, getting comfortable before closing his eyes.
“….Husk?”
“I’m tired… and out of booze. Just keep doing your thing.”
With that said, you keep working on his chest fur, making sure to be careful around bald spots. You can feel the vibrations of Husk’s purring through your lap; he seems to really enjoy this.
~~
After an hour and a half, fur everywhere and your legs numb, you finished. Husk’s coat was looking better than ever as he now slept in your lap, still purring quietly. You couldn’t help but reach down and lightly rub his ears, causing him to wake up.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine,” Husk says as he sits up.
Husk starts to feel his fur, almost amazed at how soft it felt. “My fur has never felt like this. It’s amazingly soft.”
“Told you I knew what I was doing,” you giggle as you watch Husk pet his own chest.
“Thank you for this.” Husk said, a bit quieter than his usual tone.
“You’re welcome. I’m really happy to have helped you.” You smile.
~~
“Know anything about wings?”
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brairslair · 11 months
Text
FEEL BETTER? ˗ˏˋ P.B.P ´ˎ˗
“all you have to do is ask”
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confident!peter parker x shy!gf!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.0k
REQUESTED: no requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream
WARNINGS: fem reader, shit writing, established relationship, peter and reader are implied to be in college/uni, SMUT (18+), very little plot tbh, heavy praise kink, softdom!peter vibes, fingering (f!rec), very light nipple play, SUPER slight dacryphilia if u squint, peter is talkative, not proofread and written instead of sleeping, lmk if i missed smth!
A/N: is it 8am? yeah. did i just spend the last two hours writing this mess? also yeah. enjoy!
ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Six hours. That’s how long it’s been since you showed up at Peter’s front door. Six hours spent right next to him, talking to him, touching him, and yet you still find yourself longing for more. Even now as you sit between his legs, back to his chest, his hands kindly twisting at your hair, your thoughts have you squirming in your seat.
The two of you had set up this study date a few days back, anticipating the opportunity to spend time together (without sacrificing your grades). Unfortunately, you were having a hard time focusing on schoolwork.
No matter how much you tried to focus on your paper, you couldn’t stop your mind, and your eyes, from wandering. You caught yourself staring at how pretty his hands looked as he hurriedly wrote down equations, admiring how cute he looked sitting crisscross in his plaid pajama pants and science pun t-shirt, how his voice sounded just slightly deeper when he was concentrating, or how soft his lips look right now. You actually thought you were going to lose it when the praise “Good job, babe. This looks perfect!” fell casually from his lips while reading your completed assignment, sealing it with a kiss to your temple.
You felt like you were going insane, but the thing is, so was Peter. You hadn’t seen each other for nearly three weeks prior to this study date, outside of passing in the halls or a quick call before bed. Between you trying to prepare for a major presentation coming up and Peter’s multitude of responsibilities, neither of you had much energy, let alone time, left to spend on anything else.
Of course, you love everything about Peter, unconditionally. That includes his web-slinging alter ego. However, it can get a little frustrating having to go weeks on end without being able to hold a conversation with him. Especially when all people talk about is the amazing spider-man, listening to girls fawn over your boyfriend for hours a day, and feeling just as fangirl-ish. You found yourself daydreaming about him to pass the time, acting like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.
Seeing him again after so long with so little contact is like a wake up call for your senses. You'd been so buried in your studies that you didn’t even realize just how much you missed him until you knocked on his front door.
- “Are you okay?”
Your thoughts dissolve as Peter draws your attention back to the present. When you snap back to reality, you’re immediately reminded of what caused the spiral of daydreams to begin with. You can feel the warmth of his body behind yours, the contour of his toned chest pressing against your back. You feel your whole body heat up.
“Mhm, I’m great!” you squeak out, internally wincing at the shakiness in your voice. Your usually bright and vibrant tone is completely gone, replaced with something resembling more of a whisper than anything else.
Safe to say, Peter isn’t buying it.
His best guess is that you’re upset about something that happened today. Maybe stressed about the presentation you have coming up. He knows it sometimes takes you a while to open up, so for now, he decides to let it go. In an attempt to settle your mind, he slides a hand down your arm to lace his fingers through yours.
Unfortunately, it does the exact opposite. The innocent action leaves a trail of goosebumps behind and makes your breathing pattern pick up ever so slightly. You can only hope that Peter doesn't notice.
He does.
“Are you cold?”
You shake your head, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. “No, I’m alright.” Loosely translated, means I actually feel like I’m burning from the inside out.
“Do you not like the movie? We can change it if you want to watch something else.” he offers sweetly, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’ve been all spacey for the past half an hour.”
Your breath hitches, feeling like you’ve been caught red handed. Of course he would notice. He may be a little oblivious sometimes, but when it comes down to it, Peter knows you better than you know yourself.
“The movie’s fine.” You struggle a bit to formulate a response, feeling your whole body heat up like a furnace. To evade the silence, you stutter out a weak, “I was just… thinking?”
You immediately want to light yourself on fire, deciding the silence would have been better.
“Thinking about what?” he asks. Not prying, just curious. “Must be something pretty important. Your heart is beating a mile a minute.” He softly laughs at his own words, causing you to shrink into yourself. He’s not laughing at you, but it definitely feels that way.
You fidget with Peter’s fingers in your palm, eyes locking on the movie as nerves wrack through your body. “It’s nothing.” You speak so quietly, he’s thankful for his enhanced hearing.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” you can practically hear the concerned furrow in his brow as he brings your still interlaced hands to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses to each knuckle. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
His patient and caring nature never fails to make you fall more and more in love with him, if that’s even possible.
Then, as if you weren’t enough of a mess, what really does it is when Peter leaves the faintest kiss to the base of your neck. A gesture meant to signal patience and understanding towards your “anxiety” only causes your thighs to squeeze together against your will, and before you can think enough to stop it, an airy, barely audible whine escapes the back of your throat, so soft it could pass as a sigh to the average ear.
Nothing about Peter is average.
He stills against your skin, causing your eyes snap open in horror as the realization hits you. Manicured hands immediately cover your face to shield you from the embarrassment.
They don’t stay long as Peter wastes no time in reaching up to gently pry your hands away. You feel like you could burst into tears at any moment from the sheer shame and frustration.
“Hey, hey-”, he holds both hands gently, rubbing sweet circles to soothe you, “No need to be embarrassed. You can talk to me.”
You don’t move your gaze from your lap.
“Come on, beautiful. Look at me.” He asks so gently that you comply before you can even think otherwise. His eyes are soft and kind, looking at you with all the love in the world. He makes you feel safe.
“Is that what you’ve been thinking about? Hm?”
You blink up at him owlishly, feeling like there would be a question mark floating over your head if you looked up.
“That’s why you were all spacey? You were thinking about me…” he leans his head down, lips grazing your collarbone, “kissing you?”
Your breath catches.
"Or, maybe..." your eyes are glued as he moves his hand from your hold, delicately trailing it down your stomach, past your hip, and slowly down to the inside of your thigh. So close to where you’ve needed him for the past three weeks. “-you were thinking about me touching you?”
Your heart rate picks up by a tenfold, and Peter can hear it hammering in your chest.
Waiting for a response, he’s met with nothing but your heavy breathing. He carefully digs his fingertips into the doughy flesh of your thigh. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you?”
Another airy whimper tumbles from your lips, reluctantly nodding in response to his questions, needing him too badly to care about the shame you feel at your neediness.
Peter smiles, rewarding your response by trailing his sweet kisses up your neck, taking his time to feel you shiver under his touch. His warm lips finally reach the shell of your ear.
“All you have to do is ask.”
He resumes his attack on your neck, now bolder in his movements as he licks and bites and sucks at your skin, trying to find the spot that makes your eyes flutter shut.
Caught up in the feeling of his warm mouth against your skin, you don’t even notice as he hooks your ankles over his, slowly spreading your legs wider and wider, until your skirt rides up your legs.
Peter smiles against your skin when a shaky sigh reaches his ears, your hips bucking up in sync. He’s found it. Peter focuses all of his attention on that spot, nipping and sucking at it until you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. The hand on your thigh squeezes gently every time you move your hips, and you have to chew on your lip to stop the mortifyingly desperate sounds from spilling out.
“Is this what you had in mind, baby?” the words rumble against your skin, sending a chill down your spine, “Is this what you needed?”
Your hips buck again at that, pouting with the hope that he takes the hint. You feel your body melt into him when his tongue darts out to soothe the fresh mark he’s left on your neck.
Of course, he does get the hint, but there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily.
He inches his hand higher and higher up your thigh, slipping underneath the pretty little skirt he had bought for you as a gift a few months ago. You tense in anticipation.
“What is it?” amusement evident in his tone as he asks you. He loves that he gets to be the one that makes you this needy. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”
You almost sob in frustration, not wanting to say it out loud, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable.
His hand barely brushes against your panties, making your chest tighten as you suppress the urge to grind into it.
“Tell me what you need me to do.”
You can’t handle it any longer.
“Please!” You all-but shout, free hand grabbing at his arm, “Please touch me, Pete!” You cry out, already sounding wrecked and he hadn’t even really done anything yet.
Peter beams at how vocal he had gotten you, leaning his head further down to meet your lips for the first time since you got here all those hours ago. It felt like drinking water after being stranded in a desert for days. You missed the way his lips felt. The way they tasted. You crave more.
Then, he mutters two words against your lips that manage to make your hazy brain short circuit.
“Good girl.”
Your groans are pathetic, being swallowed by Peter’s tongue as he rocks his palm against you through your pretty pink panties.
He can’t help but laugh a little, giddy at the sounds spilling out of you at even the lightest touch of his hand.
“Is that better?” he asks, breaking away for air. “This what you've been daydreamin' about?” He already knows what you really want, he always does, but he wants to hear you say it one more time. Just one more confirmation and he’ll give you anything you need.
Now that your mind is so clouded with pleasure, you don’t give it a second thought. “More-” you can’t barely get out a sentence between mewls, “Please, Peter, I need more-”
Before you can say another word, he’s pushing your underwear aside. Your head falls limp against Peter’s shoulder as he gathers your slick, dragging it up to finally circle your puffy clit.
Without his mouth to drown them out, your moans flow freely from you, drowning out the long-forgotten movie playing in the distance. Peter goes back to kissing your neck, deciding to mark every area of your skin that he can reach.
“I’m sorry, baby.” he soothes, nipping at the skin right under your jaw, his own heartbeat jumping at every noise he pulls from you, “Bet you’ve been achey all day, huh?”
You nod your head, barely registering his words as pleasure rolls through your body.
He lets out an almost mocking “Aww, honey…” as you buck your hips against his fingers, “Been so patient for me, huh? Waiting all day for me to make you feel good?”
“Mhm” mixed with your pants, words tumble from your mouth without a single thought to how eager you sound, “Feels so- ohhh… sososo good-”
All you can think about is the way Peters rough fingertips feel absolutely euphoric as he swirls and flicks at your clit, and how his lips sear every inch of your skin, and how his scent and his warmth consumes and takes over every thought floating around in your blissed-out head.
“You sound so pretty-” he peppers hot kisses across your shoulder, “Making so many pretty sounds…”
Peter bends his legs a little, which in turn, bends yours. The move spreads you out just a little bit more, but its enough to send little shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you jolt and gasp at the feeling.
Peter loves the way you look when you get like this. Skin sticky with heat, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open in bliss. He thinks you looks like a goddess.
Your moans start to sound more and more like a plea, hips grinding against Peter’s fingers subconsciously as you feel the heat slowly taking over. You need more.
“Peter, pleaseee-“
“Shh, It’s okay.” his fingers glide down to your entrance, coating themselves with slick, “I’ve got you, pretty girl.”
Your eyes practically roll into your skull as he slips two fingers inside of you with ease. The stretch feels incredible, and you can’t help but squeeze the hand that's still holding yours, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Oh my god-“
Peter kisses back up until he reaches your lips again, grinning as you can barely reciprocate. The gentle nature of his kiss makes your head spin and your core clench around his fingers.
“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”
You feel your lashes begin to collect tears at the overwhelming feeling pulsing through you. This has been building up for weeks.
“Always so good for me.”
Achey little noises spill from your lips onto Peter’s, breathing labored and heaving as the only thought filling your head is Peter Peter Peter.
Then suddenly your mind goes completely blank, gasping back a choked moan as your body goes limp, jaw slacking against Peter’s deep kisses. Your whole body feels like it's buzzing with electricity, and your head feels static in the most amazing way.
Peter pulls back for a moment to watch your face scrunch up in ecstasy, as he rubs against your spot over and over and over again. “There she is.” he coos, admittedly a little proud of himself, and you’re too fucked out to pick up on the mocking tone. He watches in awe as you start to fall apart.
“Takin’ my fingers so well, baby.”
You start to clench tighter around him, using your free hand to grip his wrist like a vice. Peter goes back to kissing your open mouth, sucking and nipping at your bottom lip as you pulse and twitch under his touch.
Panting turns back into whimpers which turns into tears as Peter massages your walls just right, hitting all the right places and stretching you out sooo perfectly.
You can feel pressure building up rapidly in your stomach, back arching up as your body starts to shake from the intensity. Peter shifts so he can watch the way your hips chase his fingers and your chest heaves for air.
“You’re so close, sweetheart. You can do it.” he praises, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge, “Almost there-“
The knot keeps winding tighter and tighter, and whiny begs and pleads start to pour out of you. Lots of “Oh my god, Pete“ or “Please” and “So good-“
Hand over yours, Peter glides your intertwined hands up your body and over your arched ribcage. He slides your hands under your his t-shirt, using his thumb to push your smaller one back and forth over your peak, a long chant of mumbled Peter’s tumble from your kiss-bitten lips.
“I know, baby, I know.” he consoles you, copying the pouty tone of your voice, “Just feels too good, huh?”
You nod your head frantically, still not catching onto the the tease, only caring about chasing your release.
He presses his lips to your ear, “Waited so long for this, honey. You deserve to feel good.”
He pumps his fingers a little bit faster.
“Gonna make you feel so good-“
You start to grind your hips up again, gasping when his palm rubs against your clit with each thrust.
“Pete-” the knot is getting tighter, “Oh my god, Peter- I’m…“ and tighter, “I’m gonna-”
“Let go for me, babe.”
Thats all you needed for your vision to go white hot, mouth falling open with a silent scream as stars dance behind your eyelids.
“There ya go”
“Just like that, pretty girl”
“Let it all out, baby”
He peppers kisses on your burning skin and slows his movements as he works you through your high. As you come down from it, your body goes limp on top of him, a lazy smile stretching on your lips. Peter can’t help but smile too, chest swelling in satisfaction that he was the one who put that smile on your face.
You wince a little as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core, eyes following as he brings them up to his lips to clean them off.
“Feel better?” this time you can definitely hear the cockiness in his tone, smacking him weakly on the arm. “Shut up.”
You turn around just enough to kiss him. This time, it’s slow, and careful, and loving, and you have to pull away and bury your face in his chest to hide the lovesick look in your eyes. Both of you burst out giggling, and Peter can't stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He’s missed you more than you could possibly ever know.
As relaxation coats you like a warm, fuzzy blanket, you shift your weight to get comfortable.
“Ah, don’t-“
Peter squeezes his eyes shut, hissing at the sudden pressure and gripping your hips to keep you still. “Can't do that...”
Now it’s his turn to get flustered.
His face goes beet red as you jump up in confusion. When you look down, you notice a painful looking bulge in his jeans. Your stomach twists with the knowledge that you did that to him.
You weren’t the only one who’s been touch deprived.
“Oh! Sorry…” you giggle a little at the accidental stimulation, looking back up at Peter with a playful smile of your own. “Your turn!”
______________________________________________________________
part 2??
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dylan-o-yumm · 1 year
Text
Little Moments - Leon S. Kennedy/reader
It has been a hot minute... I’m sorry I’m not making an amazing come back with DMC or Nero content, but hey at least it's still Capcom? Anyway, Leon is babygirl 
Also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46338547
Words: 6.6k Summary: Leon rescued both you and Ashley from the events of RE4, now the thereof you are "relaxing" in a hotel, unwinding before Leon has to take you both home in the morning.
Part 1, Part 2
“I could sleep for a year.”
“Just a year? Rookie numbers.”
“Are you guys kidding me? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink after everything I’ve seen over the last few days.” Ashley wrapped her arms around herself and looked wearily around the cozy hotel room, as if a crazy, plaga-infected Spanish person was going to jump out from the shadows. You couldn’t blame her for being so on edge, you’d be the same if Leon wasn’t there with you.
Ashley was the president's daughter and you were… just someone who was in that damn village at the wrong damn time. Leon was a special agent of some sort, somebody the president sent to find his daughter— but Leon just so happened to find you first. He saved you. And then he saved you again. And again, and again. No matter what happened, you knew Leon would be there like a knight in shining armor.
He made you feel safe but, the poor guy looked like shit and needed to finally rest. He had done so much work, busted his ass for— fuck, was it really only a day? Two days? You can’t remember how long you were there, let alone how long Leon was there looking for Ashley — and by proxy, you as well.
“Ash, it’s fine. We’re out of the village now. And even if some of the Iluminados freaks managed to escape, well… you saw how they were after their lord and savior kicked the bucket.” You turned to face Leon, gesturing for a little reassurance to come from him. Hopefully hearing it come from Leon would calm Ashley’s nerves somewhat.
Leon blinked and his lips parted as if he hadn’t been listening to a single word that had been said since he commented on how you wanted to sleep for a year. However he snapped back to hero mode rather quickly, looking around the room while he stretched his back muscles.
“I’ll stay up and make sure you’re safe. My job isn’t done yet.”
You and Ashley both shared a look.
“I think out of all of us, you need sleep the most, Leon.” Ashley told him with a concerned look on her face and you nodded in agreement. You opened your mouth to add your insight but Leon raised his hand to stop you, already knowing that you were going to demand that he sleep before you knock him out with a frying pan.
“I dozed off a few times at the village, I’ll be fine.” He shrugged as if it really didn’t bother him but you could see the exhaustion all over his face and in his shoulders, his muscles. Hell he had an aura around him that beamed like a bright neon sign that made you tired just by looking at him.
“It’s just one night. I’ll take you both home tomorrow and then I can go home and sleep for as long as I want, how’s that sound?”
“Leon…” Ashley sighed but you beat her to the punch.
“I’m too tired to argue. Just, at least sit down or something. I’ll make you some coffee,” you sighed and rubbed your forehead where a sharp headache started to irritate you. You dealt with too many loud noises; explosions, gunshots, too many bright lights from flash grenades and fires from molotovs, and the screaming and yelling of the Illuminados or Ashley or yourself. Everything from that damn village and the island, up until the point of getting out of the ocean after a long, loud and bumpy ride on a jet ski, was all building up into one big headache.
Leon didn’t have anything else to say after that, opting to do as you said and taking a seat on the couch by the window. You moved to the small kitchen and started boiling water while Ashley said she was going to go have a shower.
The three of you were still pretty filthy. The ocean water washed some of the grime off, but the stench still lingered and you all had scrapes, cuts and bruises. Your body ached from all the running around and getting thrown about and whacked and hit and kicked by the crazy villagers. Leon took the brunt of it all though, which is why you were worried about him the most. He really needed to rest. For a week. Or in your words; a year.
You all did.
Once the coffee was made, you brought a mug out for Leon, pausing for a moment to watch as he yawned so intensely his eyes started watering. Though, when he noticed you looking at him, he quickly shut his mouth and rubbed his eyes, pretending he hadn’t just been fighting off the urge to sleep. He gave you a little half smile and went back to unwrapping the bandage from his arm to check one of his many wounds.
You could have teased him for yawning, you could have angrily told him to get some sleep. But you didn’t.
“Need any stitching up?” You asked as you placed his mug on the coffee table in front of him, holding a second mug in your hand and moving it to your lap as you sat down on the couch beside him. The heat from the mug warmed your hands and made you feel more at ease.
”No. I could do with a good massage though,” he replied with a small grunt, rolling his shoulder out and you got a good look at his bicep. There was a scratch from an ax being thrown at him that, thankfully, only just nicked him. A long, but thankfully, not deep gash from his battle against Saddler. And finally a large bruise that spanned from his shoulder down to his elbow in an odd splotchy pattern. You weren’t sure what that one was from but you could take at least a dozen guesses.
You weren’t sure if he was asking you to give him a massage or not— he sure did like his cheesy one-liners and little quips, maybe this was one of them?
“Get in line, buddy. I don’t think I’ll physically be able to get out of bed in the morning,” yeah, that was a good common ground to avoid any confusion and possible embarrassment.
“It will be tough, yeah…” you could tell he was speaking from experience. How many crazy missions like this had this poor man been through? “You handled yourself well out there. I want you to know that.”
He turned his gaze to your direction but he didn’t quite meet your eye. He sounded genuine though and it made your heart skip a beat.
“You mean by… running, hiding, screaming. Oh yeah I handled myself very well,” you chuckled sarcastically and brought your cup of coffee to your lips, taking a sip.
“Hey, just because you didn’t kill anything, doesn’t mean you weren’t tough or brave,” now he finally met your eye. His own eyes, so incredibly blue that it was hard to remember them glossing over and turning a dull red from the plagas only a few hours ago.
Was that a few hours ago? It felt like it had been days since that happened.
You didn’t know how to respond, and thankfully Leon spoke up again before you could.
“Are you drinking coffee?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re not trying to stay awake, are you?”
“I don’t think even coffee could help me stay awake at this point.” Was it a lie? No. Was it a small truth that you admitted so that you didn’t have to reveal the big truth? Possibly. You were definitely too tired for coffee to keep you awake, but you were also trying to stay awake, at least a little longer, so that Leon wouldn’t have to suffer through the night alone. You couldn’t imagine what kind of thoughts he must have when it got quiet, when he wasn’t busying himself by running around castles or villages, or killing monsters.
You were tired. But so was Leon and this was the least you could do for him… You just couldn’t tell him that’s what you were doing, or he would probably knock your ass out.
You’re not a fighter. You’re not a cool secret agent with gadgets, nor were you a military trained soldier who could turn anything into a weapon. You couldn’t do the things Leon could do, you couldn’t protect him, you couldn’t save him from monsters…
Staying awake for a night just to keep him company so that he didn’t have to suffer alone? It wasn’t grand, it was nothing like the magnitude of favors and rescues he had done for you over the last however many days. But it was something. You couldn’t really do much else.
Maybe you should give him that damn massage.
“So why are you doing all of this, Leon?” You asked, wanting to change the subject so he wouldn’t figure out your little plan. He raised an eyebrow at you over his cup of coffee and you elaborated. “You came to the village because of the president's orders, right? To save Ashley… So what made you want to work for the president of all people? Or is that classified information?” You teased, knowing damn well it could definitely be very classified.
Leon chuckled.
“It’s a little classified, yeah. But I will tell you that… I met a girl a few years ago. And I want to make sure she’s safe,” he nodded softly to himself, as if reminding himself why he just went through all the horrors of the village. His already soft features softened even more as he thought about this girl.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“I think that’s illegal considering she’s a child,” he smirked slightly, as you looked down at your lap in embarrassment. “She escaped Raccoon City with me and another woman named Claire.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” You asked again, emphasis on the ‘she’ and a little teasing smile on your lips.
“Suddenly interested in my love life, huh?”
“Maybe I’m just trying to be a good wingman for Ashley. You know she’s crushing hard for you.”
“Oh this is for Ashley, huh?” His lips curl in amusement and you shrug, playing innocent. You both smile at one another as the world seems to stop spinning for a moment. Everything was quieter, the sound of rushing water from Ashley’s shower had even been drowned out, and now it was just you and Leon. You could breathe, you could take your time and just look at him, taking in the fine details of his face; the color of his irises, the sharpness of his jaw, the dip of his cupid's bow, the pinkness of his lips and the strongness of his chin.
Beautiful.
Inside and out, this man was… beautiful.
He was looking at you too, but it was different. His eyes dimmed, no longer shining along with his smile… it was like a part of him had left and gone somewhere else, no longer sitting right beside you. He looked through you, barely seeing you at all as he reminded himself of his job and why he was here. His smile faded and his eyes dropped, refusing to meet your gaze anymore.
You were admiring everything about him, and he was slowly drifting away from you. Like two ships passing in the night.
“Look… I can’t— I can’t have someone—“ he sighed and scooted closer to you on the couch, resting his gloved hand over the top of yours that was still holding your coffee mug. He was warm, even the leather of his glove was warm and it grounded you– it was a little prickly from where it had torn and frayed a little, from welding guns and knives all day long. His hand squeezed yours once, his pinky resting against the pulse point on your wrist. “I just can’t. Sorry...”
He was definitely not talking about Ashley anymore. You were only teasing and joking around about his relationship status, and you knew that he was far too good for you. Thanks to your low self esteem, and your confidence in Leon never being capable of looking at you the way you looked at him… that ship sailed hours and hours ago, practically when you very first laid eyes on him… But his words still felt like a knife to your heart for some reason.
You blinked once, shaking yourself out of the trance you had put yourself in, and your lips parted. You weren’t sure if you wanted to say something, or if you were going to say something, or if you should have said anything at all. But thankfully—
“Leon! Your turn! You stink. Who knew saving some damsels in distress was such tough work, huh?” Ashley teased as she burst out of the bathroom looking completely refreshed and clean. Her hair was twisted up into her towel while she wore the same clothes she wore in the village. Maybe you could go in search for some robes the three of you could wear or something— at least just for the night. You could go buy some clothes in the morning before the three of you headed back to your respective homes.
You and Leon jumped apart and refused to look at one another, as if you had been caught doing something naughty by your parents. If a hand on yours was considered naughty then you never wanted to be pure. Leon took a final sip of his coffee before placing the mug back down on the coffee table, and when he stood, he looked at Ashley, vaguely gesturing towards her. “Will you two be okay while I’m gone? I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Leon please. The only thing we’re in danger from right now is your body odor,” she teased even more, skipping over to grab Leon’s arm and ushering him towards the bathroom. “Im stronger than I look, don’t make me wrestle you into the shower, Leon.”
You blushed at the thought of Ashley and Leon anywhere near a shower together.
“Alright,” he chuckled but paused in the doorway of the bathroom, finally looking towards you again, but you were silent and didn’t quite know how to feel or react. “Yell if you need me, okay?” It was directed towards the both of you but his eyes were burning a hole into your face.
You simply nodded. And Leon disappeared behind the bathroom door.
———————————————————
“Need me to tuck you in or something?” Leon asked teasingly as he walked over to you. Ashley was fast asleep in one of the single beds, having passed out when you went for your shower after Leon. The three of you were clean, dressed in robes (well Leon wasn't), all comfy— but very tired. No amount of coffee could help.
You were sitting on the armchair by the second single bed, (there were only two but Leon said he was fine sleeping on the couch— this was obviously before he stupidly agreed to just not sleep at all for the night) a book in your lap, one that the hotel just had laying in the small bookshelf. It was terrible and not your idea of a good time at all, but there wasn’t much else to do. You could watch tv but you didn’t want the noise to keep Ashley up.
“Tell you a bedtime story?” He offered once you didn’t say anything to his first teasing question. “I don’t know how good of a story teller I am…”
“I'm fine, Leon. Thanks though,” you smiled up at him. You weren’t mad and you weren’t holding a grudge, you were just confused and felt a little awkward from your previous conversation with him. And with you acting awkward it only made things even more awkward— it… had been a rough few days.
“Okay…” he watched you skeptically for a moment. “Are you worried about falling asleep? I had the same problem after Raccoon City.”
“No-“
“Because I don’t mind staying up, and I can sit closer to your bed if it makes you feel any better?”
“Leon-“
“Ashley’s already knocked out so she won’t mind if I’m keeping an extra close eye on you until you fall asleep.”
“I'm fine. I swear. I just don’t feel like sleeping right now is all…” You looked up at him and smiled, closing your book to lightly wack his stomach with it. He took a step back and placed his hand over the spot you just walked, looking down with a faint smile.
“Right…” he nodded, sighing as he fell back onto your bed, spreading his legs like all men do, and resting his elbows on his knees. His upper body was leaning towards you where you sat on the armchair in between the window and the bed and, feeling a heat make its way onto your cheeks, you quickly went back to reading your book.
“What are you reading?” His voice was lower and softer than it was just a second ago, it sent shivers down your spine.
“I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t taken in a single word since I picked it up,” you looked back over at him and smiled with a small shrug as if to say ‘what can you do?’
“Riveting stuff. I guess it’s better than fighting monsters though.”
“I wouldn’t know, you fought all the monsters for me,” you sassed, as if you were disappointed that you didn’t get to fight anything, when in reality, you know you would have died if you had to go up against one of those crazy villagers. And Leon was taking on half of Spain it felt like, plus those that grew into large monsters with tentacles and big yellow eyes and slime and spikes and goop.
“Well hey, you threw a flash grenade at that Mendez guy for me.”
“I forgot to pull the pin…”
“Yeah, but he looked pretty pissed off when it hit his shin. It was a good throw,”
“I was aiming for his head…” You bit your lip.
Leon sighed and looked down, not knowing how to find the bright side of that little tidbit. A beat passed before you started to chuckle, and so did he. “I know one thing you did that saved my ass.”
“What’s that?” Your tone was humorous, thinking he was going to tease you again. It wasn’t like you did much, especially compared to Leon. Just the fact that he said ‘I know ONE thing you did that saved my ass’ is proof that you obviously didn’t do enough. However, maybe that’s for the best as you definitely would have gotten into even more trouble if you started being reckless.
“Luis’ lab…” he looked down at his hands as he spoke.”I was losing it, I could hardly see, I couldn’t move my body properly. I think I even started hallucinating.” His eyebrows jumped a little as he recalled those moments in his head. It wasn’t very pleasant for you either, but Leon had a lot more of those moments than you did. “I don’t think Ashley and I would have made it if you weren’t there,”
“I think I was just yelling at you the whole time. I was scared.” It was true. You were scared of losing both him and Ashley, and having to find a way off the island on your own. You recalled yelling at Leon while he stumbled through the hallways with an unconscious Ashley in his arms. ‘Hurry the fuck up, Leon!’ and ‘don’t fall down! Get back up! Now!’
“Your yelling got me to keep moving, gave me something to focus on.”
“Well... You’re welcome,” you whispered, looking down at your lap bashfully. Your teeth worried your bottom lip, making it feel a bit tingly and numb. Once you gained the courage to look back up and meet Leon’s gaze — his eyes already on you, watching you intently — you exhaled slowly through your nose and faintly shook your head.
“You’re so annoying,” you whispered.
“Yeah,” he whispered back.
He didn’t look amused, more like... he was agreeing with your statement. He didn’t even look like a kicked puppy, he had just accepted that it was his time to be knocked back down a couple pegs.
His eyes focused on yours while yours focused on his lips. God he was so annoying. And it was even more annoying knowing that he wasn’t doing any of this on purpose. He was just... like that. It was impossible not to like him, not to dream up some fantasy of you and him being closer, more intimate. Impossible not to imagine how soft his lips might be and how his hair might feel between your fingers, and how his rough hands might caress you so gently.
A heart breaker. That’s what he was.
Even Ashley was in the same trap as you — could you even call it a trap when Leon wasn’t aware he had set it, and you and Ashley had both practically willingly jumped into it? You heard her little hints, her little compliments. Calling him dashing and trying to get him to work with her once his mission was over. And you couldn't even blame her! You wanted more time with him as well.
“I wish I never met you,” you whispered, more softly than you had previously been speaking.
“Where would you be without me?” He whispered back just as gently.
His pearly whites faintly peaked out from behind his lips, barely visible but just enough to know that he was fighting off a smile. The corners of your lips twitched upward slightly as you fought off your own smile.
You leaned in.
He didn’t move away.
You leaned in more.
The hint of a smile had left his face and his eyes dropped down to your lips. His own lips parted and his brows twitching- itching to pull together, as he fought with himself. You could see it all — how he wanted to run, how he wanted to pull away, how he was worried and maybe even a little scared. But that wasn’t all, you could also see how he wanted to lean in and give you exactly what you wanted, because he wanted it too.
Conflicting.
You moved in gently and cautiously, your eyelids slowly closing. You weren’t sure if he moved in towards you, or if you managed to get closer to him in your eagerness, but you could feel his breath against your skin a second after your eyes closed. Your noses were the first to touch.
You breathed in, and Leon let out a shaky breath that you couldn’t only feel, but hear as well since you were so close to him. You angled your head to the side slightly, feeling your way out with the tip of your nose as it slowly and gently slid down the side of his nose bridge and poked the inner corner of his cheek.
Your lips ghosted his, feeling him ever so slightly. The softness, the warmth. You shuddered.
Your lips parted, so did his. Your lips pressed softly against his top lip while his pressed against your bottom lip, delighting yourself in how soft his lips were and how inviting they felt. You could only hope you had the same effect on him. He wasn’t pulling away, he leaned in closer, much to your surprise and his hand slowly reached out to lay flat against your knee.
You applied just the tiniest amount of pressure with your lips before pulling back, needing air. Your cheeks were warm, your eyes glossy, and your lips just a little wet from where Leon’s lips had pressed.
You licked your lips, wanting to taste more of him. He did the same. The both of you staring into each other's souls, eyes flickering to each other's lips, then eyes, then back to lips. Not a word was uttered between you two before he leaned forward this time and pressed his lips against yours.
Your heart skipped a beat.
His kiss was just as, if not more, gentle than yours, thinking he would be a little rough or just— anything but so gentle. As if you were more fragile than glass, more fragile than the finest porcelain. Like you were thin paper sat out in the rain, and one little breeze would tear you to pieces.
He kissed you. He wanted this. What was he talking about earlier with his ‘I can’t’? He was doing it right now and you never ever wanted him to stop.
Keeping your lips connected to his, you slowly rose from your seat, hands coming to slide over Leon’s shoulders. He leaned backwards — only his lower body, while his lips refused to leave yours, as he gave you space to sit down with him on the bed. His large, warm hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you close.
Your lips parted for a short breath only to close around his bottom lip a second after. But when his lips parted, he didn’t bother gaining more air, he simply worked your mouth open and found your tongue with his own. The sound of wet lip smacking soon filled the room, along with faint panting and pauses for quick breaths — gulping down air when you had the chance.
His hands squeezed your hips and yours fisted the collar of his tight shirt, pulling and not letting him go. A way to ground yourself. Just an hour ago you were so content with the idea of him being too good for you. Knowing that he would never see you the way you saw him. But now here he was, kissing your lips so softly but so desperately.
Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest, trying to explode out of you.
“Leon...” you panted breathily against his mouth, having nothing else to say besides his name. A name you never thought you’d have the opportunity to whimper out like that. You whimpered it once before when you rolled your ankle after running away from a crazy wolf-dog thing, and needed to use Leon as a crutch for a moment, but this was different.
You weren’t sure if you leaned forward or if Leon pulled you closer but he slowly fell back down on the bed, and you followed pursuit. The pillow sunk beneath his head and his hands slid from your hips to your lower back, sending goosebumps all over your skin. You’ll never understand how someone can kick open doors and barrels and people’s heads, and also be so tender and gentle behind closed doors.
He was firm, sturdy as you laid on top of him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest and he could probably feel yours as well. His heart was beating fast, but strong and mighty, and even when he was distracted like this — not alert and ready to defend, you still felt so incredibly safe.
Your tongue pushed its way into his mouth, exploring and massaging where you could. You were thankful that you brushed your teeth when you had a shower earlier, and considering the fact that Leon tasted minty and refreshing, you could only assume he did as well.
His tongue slid against yours, flicking against the roof of your mouth before he pulled back to refill his lungs. You didn’t even have time to share a look before he was back to kissing you.
One hand slid into his sandy blond hair, pulling a sweet and quiet moan from deep within his chest. Your fingers slid against his scalp and teased the roots of his hair, while your other hand laid flat over his pectoral, feeling his muscle and firmness and his strength.
Your movements were slow and steady, like liquid pouring over his skin, there was no rush, there was no danger. It was just you and Leon, sharing kisses and slowly morphing into one being. If love wasn’t this then you didn’t want it.
“Leon... hmmf,” saying his name for no apparent reason other than to just say it. Your robe slipped as you raised your leg and bent your knee, hugging him with your thighs. Leon’s gloved hand slid down to feel the soft, exposed skin of your thigh and you gasped into his mouth. The feeling of his soft fingertips with the scratchy leather sent a heat all throughout your body.
He, of course, didn’t take a robe from you earlier, opting to stay in his filthy clothes since they were more practical for if he needed to defend you and Ashley again. You didn’t think he would have to defend the two of you at all, now that you were off the island and away from the village… but neither you nor Ashley were back home just yet, so he couldn’t afford to take any risks. He was sure determined and that alone made your insides all warm and fuzzy.
His hand gripped your thigh, but his lips stopped moving. You took the opportunity to worship him; to press kisses to the corner of his lips, then two on his cheek — one right beside his ear and the other closer to his jaw as you moved down to his neck.
His skin was so soft, save for the few cuts and scrapes. He lifted his head, giving you more room and you eagerly obliged, leaving soft pecks and wet, open mouthed kisses, little licks and faint nibbles. He hummed in pleasure and it made your whole chest flood with pride.
Pressing a kiss against his adam's apple, you went to move to the other side of his neck, wanting to give his right side equal treatment, but he turned his head. You weren’t sure if he was trying to stop you or not, so you pulled back just to make sure he was okay.
He looked perfectly fine. His cheeks were a soft shade of red that you would now commit to memory for the rest of your life– probably your new favorite color.. His eyes were half lidded and a little glossy, making the different shades of blue in his irises shine brightly even in the darkly lit room. It was impossible to have a fear of drowning when you looked into them.
Though he wasn’t looking at you.
His head was turned to the side, looking over at Ashley who was still sleeping like a rock. Her lips were parted and she breathed heavily, close to snoring but not quite.
It was only when you shifted your body a little, wanting to back off a bit in case he was uncomfortable, that you felt your effect on him. Your thigh felt his excitement, he pursed his lips together and closed his eyes for a moment to focus on his breathing.
Was this really happening?
“She won’t wake up,” you whispered to him and his eyes opened, looking cautiously into your eyes, then back to Ashley, then back to you one final time. You wanted him, and he wanted you, and you had both survived the horrors you encountered over the last few days. You both deserved a break. You both deserved this.
His brow furrowed knitting together tightly. Though the slight upward angle in his brows made him look like a wounded puppy.
“My job isn’t done yet,” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I need to stay focused.”
You deflated.
“Right.” You nodded once and crawled off of him. Maybe it was for the best, you didn’t want to go too far with him after knowing him for only 48 hours. Though going through copious amounts of trauma together did make for a great bonding experience and therefore it felt like you had known him for months.
You sat on your ankles, hands on your knees. Your robe was open just enough to show your legs but the rest of you was covered. One hand left your knee to wipe your swollen and wet lips, basically wiping away Leon’s kiss, before you tucked your hair behind your ear.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your lap, feeling embarrassed and maybe even a little ashamed. Were you wrong to think Leon was into it? Into you? It definitely felt like he was, but maybe he snapped out of it once he realized you weren’t that lady in the red dress and the high heels.
As if he could sense your downward spiral, Leon’s hand found yours, the one still resting on your knee, and squeezed it reassuringly. “But I can… stay here?”
You finally looked up and met his ocean blue eyes. He had sat up somewhat, his back resting against the headboard of the bed. He looked just as unsure and nervous as you did. He obviously didn’t have much experience with this sort of stuff, which only made him even more endearing. The poor guy just fought monsters for a living and never had time to slow down and relax.
“While you fall asleep,” he added gently. He wanted to stay with you? In bed? Did that mean he wasn’t just using work as an excuse to not go further with you? He really did just want to stay alert and not have any distractions while the president's daughter was in his care.
“If you want?” He pressed one more time. He was giving you big, puppy dog eyes— knowing him, it was unintentional too. Even if you didn’t want him to stay with you, there was no way you could refuse him when he gave you that face. But you did want him to stay of course.
You didn’t need to say so.
You curled up beside him, sliding your body under the covers. Leon didn’t smell great, but he was at least clean enough— his clothes weren’t covered in blood and dirt but the smell lingered a bit. You weren’t sure if his sweat or the seawater from the jetski ride over was what rid his tight shirt of all the muck. Or maybe he washed them in the shower and dried them quickly afterwards. That would be nice.
Your hand splayed over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Your nose pressed against his ribs, finding an odd sense of comfort in the smell that lingered. It was Leon after all, it was proof he was there with you, reminding you you were safe even when you had your eyes closed.
His arm was around your neck, letting you use his bicep as a pillow. His heart was beating rather fast as you snuggled into his side but after a few minutes it slowed back down and fell in tune with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Leon turned his head and pressed his lips against your forehead, letting them linger for a moment. And his arm, the one you weren’t laying on, moved over towards you, his hand stroking through your hair.
Cocooned in Mr. Leon S. Kennedy’s arms.
“Get some sleep. I’ll look after you.”
And there go your plans to stay awake with him.
—————————————————————
After waking up in Leon’s arms, you got up and did your morning ritual with Ashley. Breakfast, brushing your teeth, brushing your hair, getting dressed, etc. Leon stood by the door rushing you both as it got close to 9am. A tired but teasing “come on, ladies” came from him as he ushered you both out the door.
Ashley was the first to go home. Being the president's daughter and all. You said your goodbyes to her in the car, opting to not go into the big building with all the security guards. Leon escorted her back to her father — after you and Ashley exchanged emails of course, and by the time she had been delivered home safely, it was already dinner time. The flight from Spain to America chewed up a few hours.
You and Leon didn’t really have a chance to talk when Ashley was around. Though you thought that once it was just the two of you, he might mention something from last night or maybe even be a little more touchy feely. A hand on your thigh while he drove or maybe he would reach for your hand. Maybe press a kiss to the back of your palm once in a while or lean over to kiss your cheek at every stop sign and red light.
He didn’t do any of that.
He barely spoke. You barely spoke. Maybe it was because these were your final moments with him, that you didn’t know what to say or how to act or what to do. How do you say goodbye to someone who saved your life time and time again? How do you just watch him leave without somehow repaying him? Why did he have to leave at all? Why did you have to go back home?
You just did. He just did. It just had to be like this.
Finally once you arrived at your home, Leon got out of the car first, coming around to let you out of the passenger side like a gentleman. You smiled and stepped out, awkwardly hugging yourself as you walked with him to the front door.
This was it wasn’t it? The final goodbye.
You bent down to flip over the corner of the welcome mat, picking up your spare house key and unlocking the door. You hadn’t been home in weeks. Everything was dark and dusty and that homey scent had faded away until you barely recognised where you were.
The door was open but you were yet to step inside. You turned to face Leon first, your hand gripping the door handle tightly until your knuckles turned white.
“…Do you... wanna come in?” You asked hopefully, just wanting to spend more time with him, wanting to feel safe for just a few minutes longer. You wouldn’t be able to feel safe once he walked away. And that foolish little part inside you hoped you could pick up where you left off last night.
But Leon pulled a face. Not out of disgust or hatred or anything bad, he was just… his face was saying ‘no.’ The awkward smile that wasn’t really a smile, more like a ‘man, I’m about to hurt your feelings even though I don’t want to,’ smile.
“I guess not, huh?” You looked down and nodded distantly, realising that this really was goodbye then. Part of you wanted to be angry, for everything that had happened last night, for the feelings you had developed. However, Leon’s ocean blue eyes and his silly floppy hair with those pink, kissable lips... how could you be mad at that?
“It’s been a long couple of days. I should get home.”
“No, yeah. Of course,” you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, avoiding eye contact.
“I’ll probably have another mission lined up for me when I get back to work.” Leon’s voice was quiet and his shoulders were tense. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling but he definitely didn’t look comfortable.
“Yeah.” You nodded slowly, keeping your gaze on your shoes that inched closer towards the inside of your home, wanting to run away and hide.
One beat passed. A sigh left both of you at the same time.
“I’ll see you ‘round, (Y/N)...” you blinked. He was leaving already? Just like that? You finally looked up to meet his eyes, wanting a look at those pools of blue one more time... but he had already turned around and started walking away. He was clearly eager to get away from you, eager to get home and back into his work.
You wouldn't cry over someone you couldn't have...
“Goodbye, Leon.”
You stepped inside your home and closed the door behind yourself.
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dira333 · 7 months
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Trouble in Paradise - Naruto x Reader
A/N: Angst to fluff, my take on Naruto's marriage
tagging @revasserium
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As you walk the streets of Konoha, a sleeping boy pressed to your chest, tears barely dried on his small face, another child growing in your belly, you know things need to change.
You don't walk home. Instead, you take the slightly longer route and stop at the entrance to the Aburame compound, knocking softly on the doors of the Clan Head.
Shino opens shortly after, dark glasses reflecting your own miserable reflection.
“Is everything okay?”
“It could be better,” you offer quietly, “I’m sorry I’m springing this onto you, but I need to… I need to talk to my husband. And I don’t want Boruto to hear it.”
“I understand.” Shino eyes the boy for a second before stepping aside. A cloud of Kikaichu takes off from his hands, no doubt to call Hinata who comes in shortly after.
You must look even worse to her, or maybe it’s her incessant way of worrying about everyone, because she rushes over, hugs you as tight as she can with Boruto still clinging to you.
“Is everything okay?” She asks as well and you can feel yourself slipping again, eyes stinging with tears.
“It could be better,” you press out and swallow, rub your son’s back to convince yourself that at least he’s still here. “He’s been sick for a few days but his fever wouldn’t go down last night and we… we’ve been at the hospital for hours. They did as much as they could and it’s gone down significantly. But I… I can’t go on like this anymore. Can you take him for a few hours? I need… I need…” You can’t say it. But Hinata understands anyway. 
It still breaks your heart when she takes your son from you and carries him to the guest room he’s slept in quite a few times now. 
“Maybe you should rest first,” Shino comments calmly. “Surely something like this should be dealt with when you’re better rested.”
“No.” You shake your head. “I’ll be back shortly. Or… or in the morning, if it can’t be helped.”
“If you insist.” He offers you a nod goodbye, but you can feel his eyes on you as you walk off, your arms curled around you now that the warmth of your child is gone.
-
The Hokage tower lies almost deserted. The few guards that are up at this late hour let you pass without question. You’re well known.
Still, your hand shakes when you raise it to knock. You take a deep breath, relieved to be called in immediately.
Naruto looks tired. Exhausted, even. The bags under his eyes remind you more of Gaara than of the man you vowed to love forever.
It takes him a considerably long time to recognize you, which hurts more than you want to admit.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, a little panicked. “How late is it? I meant to come home for dinner, I-”
“No need.” You fold your hands in front of your stomach. Are you trying to protect your unborn child from its own father? Maybe. You don’t know anymore.
“What do you mean?” He’s still fumbling around on his desk, looking for something he probably isn’t so sure of himself.
“I want a divorce.”
Naruto freezes. You’ve never seen him this shell-shocked before. You know him to deal with trauma calmly, laugh about threats, treat danger like a joke. But this… it’s scary. As it should be.
“What?” He asks, voice breaking. His eyes are looking at you, but you can tell they’re not focusing.
“For the past four days, Boruto has been sick. You’ve been home once in this time and yes, Naruto, I know when you’re using a Shadow Clone. Not once have you asked how he was. I spent almost 24 hours at the hospital today because his fever got so bad that they thought about putting him into a coma. I was alone, Naruto.”
“Is he-” Naruto starts, voice breaking off.
You nod, shaking from head to toe. “He’s alright. Or as well as he can be, considering the circumstances. He’s with Shino and Hinata now because I didn’t want him to hear this. I just… If you didn’t want a family, why did you start one? I would have been fine doing missions and seeing you in between like we used to before I got pregnant. But you promised!”
“I… I don’t know… I’m the Hokage and…”
“I know.” You swallow down bile. “It has always been your biggest dream. And you can have that. I hope you’ll be happy.”
You turn to leave. But you don’t make it to the door.
Naruto pulls you in like he used to, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other rubs your back. It’s familiar and oh-so painful, but you can feel yourself sink into the touch. It’s been too long without it.
His chest shakes with every inhale. Maybe it’s your exhaustion, both physically and mentally, but you need a second to realize he’s crying, full-on sobbing into your shoulder.
Your fingertips dig into his arms, but instead of pushing him away, you pull him closer.
Is this what love feels like? When you’re too hurt to go on anymore and your head tells you to stop this, to cut the strings that bind you, all you can do is keep hanging on.
“I’ll change. Don’t leave me, please!” He says it like a prayer like you’re the goddess that rules his life. Maybe you are. You don’t know anymore.
“Come home,” you say, your voice tired, cracking at the edges with emotion overflowing.
And to your surprise, he does.
-
You wake up from a knock on the door. 
The sun is up high already, telling how long you’ve slept. Strong arms are curled around you, unwilling to let go as you move to slip out of their grip. 
“There’s someone at the door, Naruto!” You tell him, pinch his nose when he won’t move. 
He grumbles and lets go, curls into himself as soon as you’re out of bed. Typical.
Hinata looks up at you with bright, worried eyes.
“I wanted to check in on you,” she says, “Boruto is with Shino. He’s doing much better. How are you?”
“I’m not sure,” you tell her, rubbing your face. “He came home tonight at least. I can’t believe I slept this long. Boruto must feel horrible. I’m sorry, I’m such a terrible-”
“No.” Hinata’s voice is sharp now, hand outstretched as if she’s ready to fight. “Don’t go there. You’re doing your best. He’s fine. His fever’s almost completely gone and you left him with friends you can trust. You’ve had good reasons for what you did. I’ll let him know that you’re fine and that you and Naruto are doing some grown-up things and wanted him to have fun in the meantime. As soon as anything changes I’ll let you know.”
“You’re the best Hinata.” You move to hug her. She whispers into your ear. “It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but keep in mind how Naruto grew up, please?”
“I will,” you choke out when she steps back. “I will,” you repeat and she nods and leaves without another look back.
-
Naruto finds you in the kitchen half an hour later in the middle of making breakfast.
“Morning,” He shuffles closer, awkwardly folding himself around you, chest pressed against your back. You can feel how tense he is, trying his best to go back to how things used to be.
“Morning,” you reply as calmly as you can. “When are you leaving for work?”
“I thought I could stay home… today. We can go pick up Boruto and spend some time together.”
“And starting tomorrow you’re back at the office again, or what?” You can feel him tense behind you at your sharp tone and push the pan aside, turning down the heat before you burn the eggs to crisps.
Your hands are shaking, your breathing too fast. Before you can do anything else, Naruto has spun you around and pulled you in. But he’s not begging this time, just holding you close, as if that would prevent you from leaving him altogether.
It helps, though. To feel his skin under your fingertips, to be able to smell him and feel him and hear him, know that he’s not some shadow of the real thing, but the real thing itself…
You remember Hinata’s words and now you’re the one pulling him closer.
“Remember what I told you? About my parents?”
“You told me a lot of things,” his voice is a little scratchy, but he tries, “What do you mean?”
“My parents were both active Shinobi. But when I came home from school, there was always someone there. I knew both my parents and I knew I could count on them. I know you didn’t have that, but… you can be like that too. Don’t you want to be like that too?”
“Can you teach me?” Naruto asks, voice timid and soft. There’s nothing left of the Hokage, nothing left of the “strongest Shinobi of the Leaf”. This is not the man who mastered a Jutsu by sheer will, who won a war just because he needed to. 
Maybe, just maybe, this is him in his purest form. A child, forgotten and alone, who never learned how to be a parent. 
“Yeah,” you say, swallowing down the tears to speak. “Yeah, I’ll teach you.”
- - -
“Daddy, look!” Boruto calls from the kitchen table.
Naruto’s in the middle of getting ready, with bleary eyes and messy bedhead, but he stops and turns, squints to make out what’s so important to his son.
It’s the napkin he was supposed to clean his hands with, now decorated with a painting made from ketchup. 
“It’s the Kyuubi!” Boruto explains proudly. “Do you like it?”
“It’s amazing!” Naruto hops over, trousers pulled up on only one leg. He presses a kiss to Boruto’s head. “How long did you work on that?”
“Very long!” Boruto declares though it couldn’t have been more than five minutes. “Can it go on the fridge?”
“We’ll have to ask Mom about this one, buddy.” Naruto apologizes and they both turn their bright blue eyes toward you. 
You smile and rub the back of your little girl who’s currently hungrily drinking her milk. 
“It’s great, but how about we use it as inspiration and make a bigger painting with more colors? Daddy can keep it in his office then.”
“Okay!” Boruto tosses the napkin to the side and digs into his Omurice, already forgetting about it. 
Naruto shakes his head at that, pulls his trousers on properly, and walks over to you. 
“How are we doing today?” He asks softly, voice a little lower. “Still good?” 
“Still good,” you tell him, leaning in to kiss him. “Make sure to come home in time, okay? If you can’t handle this project alone, you need more help.”
“Yes boss,” he kisses your nose, “I’ll let Shikamaru know. I*m sorry for coming home late yesterday.”
“I know.” You rest your temple against his. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
-
Life’s not any easier now that you’ve got two kids instead of one. 
There’s always more work to be done, days where you barely see your husband. 
But if Naruto’s one thing, he’s a fast learner. Determined, too. If he wants something, he’ll stop at nothing to get it, to become what is necessary. 
And to become a good father, a good husband, a good man… all he needed was a teacher..
-
“When’s Daddy coming home?” Boruto asks in the evening as you’re making dinner. He’s finished two paintings today, ran around the house until he got tired enough to take a nap, and still managed to paint the bathroom tiles with your favorite nail color.
You look up at the clock hanging from the wall.
“Well, if everyone at the office was nice today, he should be home in about fifteen minutes.”
“How long is that?” He asks just as his little sister starts to wail. 
Boruto runs over and offers her her pacifier. She quiets immediately and he beams up at you, so obviously proud.
“You’re a great big brother,” you praise him. “That was so nice of you.”
“When’s Daddy coming home?” Boruto asks again, running around your legs.
“Well, if everyone was nice today, he should be home by the time the food is ready. Can you help me with setting the table?”
“Yes!” He runs and grabs the plates, tosses the chopsticks on the table as well. It’s messy and chaotic, but right now you could care less.
Because while Boruto is busy setting the table you hear the telltale sound of familiar footsteps walking down the hallway and you know, just any second, Naruto will be home.
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now i’ve seen you’ve broken a feather
A Regressor!Dick Grayson with Caregiver!Bruce Wayne fic! 978 words, hurt/comfort, sickfic, do not ship!! photos found on pinterest!
Happy Batman day! I didn’t know I was gonna post this at all, and if I had known I would’ve done a Regressor!Bruce Wayne fic for obvious reasons, but this is what I got! Hope you enjoy :) - Connor
(the sickness is just coughing and stuffy nose :3 emetophobia folks ur safe!)
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Dick had told Bruce that it was just a cough.
Keyword: was.
It wasn’t like it was a rare occasion for him to get a cough or a sniffle every now and then, especially since he interacted with a lot more people than anyone else in the household, so naturally everyone accepted that explanation.
Aside from Bruce, of course. Between him being a detective, having great knowledge with medical and health issues, and being Dick’s legal guardian long enough to know when he lies, it’s safe to assume he typically knows when something else is up.
Everyone— sometimes including Bruce!— chalks Bruce’s worry up to paranoia and anxiety over his children, which is what Dick had told Bruce when the older insisted on taking his temperature, giving a quick look at his throat, and eventually asked to do a full checkup, to which Dick still refused, despite Bruce’s pleas.
But right now? Dick wished he would’ve listened and let Bruce do something earlier. Maybe he could’ve prevented it, or at least lessen the impact the sickness has on him right now. His head throbs like an ice pick hammered at his temples and the base of his neck. He couldn’t breathe through his clogged nose, but blowing his nose into a tissue didn’t solve anything either. His chest is heavy with a weight on his lungs, and his arms just ache with a similar weight, leaving him unable to lift his shaky arms just enough to grab a tissue.
The worst part is the brain fog, in his humble opinion. The feeling that you’re not fully coherent and understanding, like you’re deprived from sleep even though he got plenty last night. (Nine hours is plenty of sleep, even if it is on and off! And he is more than willing to argue on that when he’s more awake!)
He felt miserable, but miserable felt like a downplay on what his body was experiencing.
He blinked out of his thoughts— If you could even call it that, more like zoning out.— when there was a soft knock at his door, followed by the sound of the handle turning and opening. Turning his hazy attention over to the source, he sees Bruce walking over with a tea tray filled with something Dick could really care less about at the moment.
“Hey bud, I’m sorry you feel bad.” Bruce says with the gentlest tone Dick’s heard in awhile, the same gentleness that he used when he was younger or— “‘M not small” Dick speaks into his pillows, his eye sharpening as much as it can through the sickly haze that covers his brain. He may be very out of it, but he’s certainly not regressed, he knows he isn’t.
Knowing is a loose term to him.
“I never said you were.” Bruce hums out in response, a subtle twitch at the corner of his lips at the unprovoked comment, grabbing a translucent cap from the tea tray and offering it to Dick, who squints at the two white capsules inside, before whining with a displeased expression and burrowing his face into his pillow.
“C’mon chum, you and I both know that you don’t like the liquid medicine more than the pills.” Bruce says calmly, a voice Dick only heard when he was trying to be convinced into something, but he won’t fall for the tricks of taking medicine this time!
“Hm,” Bruce sighs out. “I guess the ice cream I got will go to waste.”
Dick turns his head a bit at that, peeking an eye out from where his face is buried into the soft white plush. “Ice cream..?” He murmurs, his gaze latched onto Bruce’s somber expression with wide eyes.
“Mmhm. Mint chocolate chip, too.” He says, a frown on his face as he shakes his head solemnly with a click of his tongue. A sniffle and he looks at Dick, who’s turned his attention towards Bruce entirely, his head raised from the pillow slightly. “But, I don’t like mint chocolate chip. I also know that the others don’t like mint chocolate chip, so why would I have gotten it?” He says, looking up in thought as he taps his chin in theatrical confusion, to which Dick’s eyes crease with a silent smile at.
“I like it!” Dick says as he sits up, a few stray coughs escaping his lungs at his sudden excitement, gaining a reminder at the scratchiness in his throat.
Bruce raises his eyebrows as he turns to Dick. “It is? Wow! How could I forget?!” He says, a smile as equally big as his sons, before he feigns a deep thought for a moment. “How about we do a trade? You take these two pills, and I’ll give you a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, hm?”
Well, obviously, Dick can’t deny any offer involving mint chocolate chip ice cream, so he nods rapidly, a toothy grin plastered on his face. He quickly stops the motion with a whine when his head begins to throb again, Bruce placing a comforting hand on the back of Dick’s head and tucking it below his chin, rubbing his thumb soothingly.
“Okay, okay, bud. Let’s take this medicine and get you some ice cream to make you feel better.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of Dick’s head, who hums in agreement.
Pulling back, he takes the pills separately with sips of his— now lukewarm— lemon tea that Alfred had made earlier, and swallows them with a few moments of struggle, to which Bruce just rubs reassuring circles on his back when he catches a glimpse of discontent on Dick’s face.
Maybe medicine isn’t as big of a deal if mint chocolate chip ice cream is involved, and just maybe listening to Bruce isn’t as big of a deal if mint chocolate chip is involved either.
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